It happened, yet again-In bed last night at 11:30. No sleep. At all. Toss and turn and cover head, cover body, sweat, awake. Frass online. Back in bed. Repeat. I blame the bean burrito's I made after softball, but man. Show some food restraint, kiddo. Please.
Speaking of burrito's, this was the weekend of the tortilla. Friday, before "Triple Esfrasso" Moses and I hit Pancho Villa's to share fajita's and margie's. The show was great. I haven't laughed that hard at a theatrical show since probably "Flaming Guns". (Weird. Out of all the theatre I've seen in Minneapolis and after catching show's at every major venue- The Music Box was one I'd never patronized. Bad Minnesotan) Afterwards we stayed up and had a cocktail across the street @ the Market before heading home and passing out.
Which would be the only good sleep I got all weekend.
Caturday I spent working out, cleaning the house. Went over to Mo's for dinner (Free Chipotle. Tortilla number TWO) napped. We split so she could meet buddies for a housewarming and I went home and waited for my friend Ryan to call so we could hit one of my old friends bachelor parties down town. Got home around 1:40 and did the old tossing and turning thing until 5:30.
Sunds was spent making runs to the grocery store, making a breakfast burrito thingie (Making it tortilla # Three) Home Depot run (Bought a ton of perrennial's: Asiatic's, Daisies, etc) More hosta goodness, and the beginnings of the 100 odd pavers I'm fixing to lay down to landscape the backyard. I'm still needing to finish painting the Southside of the garage so I don't get fined.
It's late, and softball is coming up soon so I go in and fix a tequila lime grilled chicken avocado wrap for dinner (#4). Incidently, I sucked and had entered the game under the false presumption that I could just go in and play and do all right. Not so much. Embarrassed myself, I did. Wiffed all my at bats. I should just stick with T-Ball. Or not volunteering to scab for a team that already works well together as a unit. Grump.
So I went home and watched the end of "First Blood" and fast forwarded through"The Matrix" whilst munching two bean burrito's to drown my sorrow (#'s Five and Six) . I ended up with a full beany tummy, then went to bed and engaged in the aforementioned fitful tossy turnies.
So that's that.
Tonight I go home and maybe nap. I need one. I feel more out of it than normal. I get to hit a PWYC performance of "Our Town". Hopefully get the sleep I need.
And I was fresh outta Ny-Quil too. Boo.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Friday, July 13, 2007
Happiest of Happy's!!!
To big bro' RSvP!!! The new daddy-o is celebrating the 13th anniversary of his 21st Birthday, and to celebrate I'm skipping out early to have a lil' lunchable's with him. No embarrassing stories will accompany today's happy blog, although the other day when I was driving home from work I remembered the time he got run over by a bus...
That'll bake your noodle, won't it? "What??? The master ninja was attacked by a deadly ninja school bus? Say it ain't so?!?!?!" Nope. True story. This was before his training, you see. Nowaday's, those school buses wouldn't stand a chance. Hiiiiii KEEBA!!!
Other famous Cancer-ites sharing their b'day's with big brother include Picard, Han Solo, and the dude that directed "Fast Times at Ridgemont High", and my buddy KH. (Happy birthday, gorgeous)
So shout out, email, call, frass and wish the bestest role model you could ask for a happy birthday!!!
That'll bake your noodle, won't it? "What??? The master ninja was attacked by a deadly ninja school bus? Say it ain't so?!?!?!" Nope. True story. This was before his training, you see. Nowaday's, those school buses wouldn't stand a chance. Hiiiiii KEEBA!!!
Other famous Cancer-ites sharing their b'day's with big brother include Picard, Han Solo, and the dude that directed "Fast Times at Ridgemont High", and my buddy KH. (Happy birthday, gorgeous)
So shout out, email, call, frass and wish the bestest role model you could ask for a happy birthday!!!
Monday, July 09, 2007
Two to grow on:
First, this represents one side of the two sided shelf which housed the sauces that were Heiss. Note the "Danger" sign. I opted for one of the few sauces that didn't have a warning label requesting that you make sure it doesn't come in contact with your skin. The way I see it, if it's so hot that it diminishes the flavor? The sauce is useless, and you wind up loosing the feeling in your mouth. And that's if you're lucky. Recall the story of my buddy Adam, who topped his steak dish at El Meson with "Ass in the Tub Hot Sauce". He lost his hearing for about 25 minutes) If you look at the first bottle on the second shelf down (The reddish cap with the white top) that's mine. It's supposed to look like a Santa hat.) Directly below that and to the right in the photot is a bottle with what appears to be Mardi Gras beads. That's the "Show yer T#t's" brand hot sauce. Not that the two have even a remote connotation. I held the bottle up over my head for nearly a minute and it didn't do a dang thing. Well, the Abuela that was running the counter put a suspicious hand near the hem of her shirt...but that was all. Close call, that.
And here is the infamous flat tire. We carefully took her up to the corner Chevron station where I valiantly attempted resuscitation to no avail. After the free emergency Mavis roadside assistance showed up, he recommended that we take it to "Chip's Tire's" on Monday a.m. Chip was an affable man. Skinny, pepper gray handle bar mustache to match his hair. Tinted specs. Pall Mall hanging out of the corner of his mouth. Barking orders and running around like a man half his age. He delegates tire patching detail to one of his employees who after a cursory glance discovers the culprit: A well placed nail. The head of the thing looked like it was the size of a dime. Our tire didn't stand a chance. One quick patch and we were off like a prom dress.
And While we were frassin' in the Tire store wait area...working our crossword with gusto ("Quick! What's a 16 letter word for a 1988 movie starring Tom Selleck, Steve Guttenburg, et.al?") , this man who was from NYC was audibly talking to (I presume) HIS insurance agency or roadside service. He made this big deal about being from NY, loudly announcing it to the person on the phone's recieving end AND to the Tire store patron's. ("WHAT? YEAH'S. THAT'S RIGHT, DIRECT FROM NEW YORK CITY, NY...WHAT'S IT TO YA? EHHHH, YEAHYEAHYEAH DESE GUYS ARE GREAT.")
People amaze me. They really do.
First, this represents one side of the two sided shelf which housed the sauces that were Heiss. Note the "Danger" sign. I opted for one of the few sauces that didn't have a warning label requesting that you make sure it doesn't come in contact with your skin. The way I see it, if it's so hot that it diminishes the flavor? The sauce is useless, and you wind up loosing the feeling in your mouth. And that's if you're lucky. Recall the story of my buddy Adam, who topped his steak dish at El Meson with "Ass in the Tub Hot Sauce". He lost his hearing for about 25 minutes) If you look at the first bottle on the second shelf down (The reddish cap with the white top) that's mine. It's supposed to look like a Santa hat.) Directly below that and to the right in the photot is a bottle with what appears to be Mardi Gras beads. That's the "Show yer T#t's" brand hot sauce. Not that the two have even a remote connotation. I held the bottle up over my head for nearly a minute and it didn't do a dang thing. Well, the Abuela that was running the counter put a suspicious hand near the hem of her shirt...but that was all. Close call, that.
And here is the infamous flat tire. We carefully took her up to the corner Chevron station where I valiantly attempted resuscitation to no avail. After the free emergency Mavis roadside assistance showed up, he recommended that we take it to "Chip's Tire's" on Monday a.m. Chip was an affable man. Skinny, pepper gray handle bar mustache to match his hair. Tinted specs. Pall Mall hanging out of the corner of his mouth. Barking orders and running around like a man half his age. He delegates tire patching detail to one of his employees who after a cursory glance discovers the culprit: A well placed nail. The head of the thing looked like it was the size of a dime. Our tire didn't stand a chance. One quick patch and we were off like a prom dress.
And While we were frassin' in the Tire store wait area...working our crossword with gusto ("Quick! What's a 16 letter word for a 1988 movie starring Tom Selleck, Steve Guttenburg, et.al?") , this man who was from NYC was audibly talking to (I presume) HIS insurance agency or roadside service. He made this big deal about being from NY, loudly announcing it to the person on the phone's recieving end AND to the Tire store patron's. ("WHAT? YEAH'S. THAT'S RIGHT, DIRECT FROM NEW YORK CITY, NY...WHAT'S IT TO YA? EHHHH, YEAHYEAHYEAH DESE GUYS ARE GREAT.")
People amaze me. They really do.
I can't make this stuff up. The first night in Santa Fe, this Baptist church was touting a legendary and renowned pastor who was coming in to give the Sunday sermon. I allowed it a fleeting glance before diving back into my book.
Cut to the day we're leaving to hit Taos. Dorajar and I both did a double take, pulled a U-ey so we could bring you the latest bout of mild church vandalism:
Seriously. This was also a bit ironic since not 3 days prior we were listening to one of the only stations to provide any airplay in the desert which happened to be a religious station. Touting the fact that pre-marital sex is not only sinful but a gateway for demonic possession, and that Ted "The Nuge" Nugent was sinful due to the fact that he hunted animals and committed the demonic pagan act of drinking the animals blood.
Heh.
In two otherwise completely unrelated notes, I am proud to say that I was able to get a spat of fiction reading in during the week (after picking up some used nickelbacks at the Moab used bookstore.) and I demolished not one. Not two. But four, count'em FOUR adapted screenplays based on their respective movie. (With the exception of "Jaws", which technicallyh came first.) "Dragonslayer", "Krull", and "Willow" all became my b#tches. Between those and the bachanalian number of crosswords we did over pints of micro-brewed pale ale? I feel like a new man.
Secondly, one of our other bullet points was obtaining a unique and powerful hot sauce. We found a shop in Santa Fe that catered to this wish, however the shelf proved overwhelming in the number of potential candidates. (Varying from "Hot as F#ck" hotsauce to "Show your T#t's" hot sauce.)
I opted for one called "Christmas time" Hot Sauce. Appropos for nothing.
Lastly, I hate the term "Snuggle Pouch"and any physical area that term may be associated with. You heard me. And I hate being in crowded stores when SOMEone behind me asks if my chlamydia is acting up. In an outdoor voice. >: P
Cut to the day we're leaving to hit Taos. Dorajar and I both did a double take, pulled a U-ey so we could bring you the latest bout of mild church vandalism:
Seriously. This was also a bit ironic since not 3 days prior we were listening to one of the only stations to provide any airplay in the desert which happened to be a religious station. Touting the fact that pre-marital sex is not only sinful but a gateway for demonic possession, and that Ted "The Nuge" Nugent was sinful due to the fact that he hunted animals and committed the demonic pagan act of drinking the animals blood.
Heh.
In two otherwise completely unrelated notes, I am proud to say that I was able to get a spat of fiction reading in during the week (after picking up some used nickelbacks at the Moab used bookstore.) and I demolished not one. Not two. But four, count'em FOUR adapted screenplays based on their respective movie. (With the exception of "Jaws", which technicallyh came first.) "Dragonslayer", "Krull", and "Willow" all became my b#tches. Between those and the bachanalian number of crosswords we did over pints of micro-brewed pale ale? I feel like a new man.
Secondly, one of our other bullet points was obtaining a unique and powerful hot sauce. We found a shop in Santa Fe that catered to this wish, however the shelf proved overwhelming in the number of potential candidates. (Varying from "Hot as F#ck" hotsauce to "Show your T#t's" hot sauce.)
I opted for one called "Christmas time" Hot Sauce. Appropos for nothing.
Lastly, I hate the term "Snuggle Pouch"and any physical area that term may be associated with. You heard me. And I hate being in crowded stores when SOMEone behind me asks if my chlamydia is acting up. In an outdoor voice. >: P
Hi. Aloha. Mazel Tov. We're back now. Alive. Barely. I won't spare you all the gory details. Maybe I'll cut/tag them into episodic LJ entries. Maybe I'll just make a mini-book that can accompany the DVD footage we shot while tripping on the road. Sufficed to say, it was a helluva a trip and I'm already going into post-trippy depression. Some highlights:
1 flight into Denver with a SCREAMING pampie right behind our ears for 1.5 hours. (Mo was upset that she didn't bring a taser. That child was Chucky and Damian all rolled up into one. It was his evil eyebrows.)
We logged 1,540 miles on the borrowed Ford Focus.
Hit 3 states.
Met a hippy with a lisp at the Hostel. ("I am the offith!")
17 margarita's. (Part of our half-assed itinerary was to find the perfect margarita. I tell you what, it was NOT the margie they served in Eagle Nest, CO at the Historic Grand Vault Saloon and Inn. Cheap bastards. At least it served as the "quirky bar" we wanted to visit)
15 different kind of brew pub pale ales.
One "Half" Litre of Jack.
One "Half" Litre of Morgans.
Eating more different versions of beans and tortilla's than you'd want to eat and be in the same room as another human being. Prrrrrt.
1 flat tire fixed by Chip the magical tire guy.
1 retarded Mikey thinking that a jog in 109 degree heat with 0 humidity was a good idea in Moab. (As well as an uphill jog at 8,000 feet above sea level in Santa Fe)
A burning desire to relocate to Durango, CO (While we're young. We had the best breakfast there) or Santa Fe, NM when we're older. (We danced with the hippies in town square, pausing to realize that we were probably the next youngest demographic by 20 years)
5 different hikes of varying intensity- ranging from a leisurely 2 mile putter around the Canyonlands, to an intense 4.5 mile hike that went from 8,000 to 9,010 feet, then down. Then right back up again. (And some mo-fo was jogging it! With his pregnant wife! Nootz to them!)
A deranged multiple-personality disordered tour guide at Mesa Verde named "Ranger Jo" She was a trippy lady. She kept channelling "Grandfather". "Grandfather, will you tell us why?!?!"/(Back to herself) "Girl? You don't wanna know"
In all that, we managed to sneak in both a sushi night in Santa Fe (The owners appreciated my lame attempts at Japanese. Kampei indeed) and Thai food whilst parked in Denver on our last night.
Then I got home and found out that my water heater is busted. Flooding the basement. Again.
At least he kept the lawn watered. It's greener than my nabes, anyway.
Hi guys. It's great to be home. I missed my city. And my roommate. And my kitty...
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