I received a lot of great gifts this year. My favorite is usually the calendar my sister, Bridget, makes for us every year with family pictures.
This year I received something better.
My sisters and I sent “care” packages to our brother while he was stationed in Iraq. In thanks, he made us these. I’m all poignant.
My friend Jim had his work posted on his yarn shop’s blog.
It’s TEH Awesome!!
After years of experience, we’ve gotten a routine down for the procuring of food. Around lunch, we pass around a sheet of paper and everyone writes down what they want from the nearby Ralph’s supermarket. Often it’s sandwiches, but this year, Joe took us in a delicious alternative: chicken strips. Being deli food, though, it’s not very photo worthy.
Evenings vary. Thursday, we ended up at Masala, rated the best Indian restaurant by San Diego magazine. It’s tasty, but pricey. Primarily, it’s convenient. Located in the Gaslamp district, adjacent to the convention center, it’s close by. Fortunately for us, but regretfully for them, most Con attendees are more interested in American or Continental fare. When we eat with Peter, those are the restaurants we usually end up at. Those restaurants pack quickly, but we were able to sail into Masala with a party of 5 and no waiting. ^_^ Eventually, it filled up as the adventurous overflow “settled” for Indian food. Heh, they are “settling” for better food than most of those other places serve.
Indian bread is fabulous. Masala offers a bread basket, which comes with plain nan, garlic nan, onion kulcha, and spinach kulcha. We ordered two. Masala also paid attention to the amount of spice, or lack thereof, that we preferred for our dishes. Joe had a lovely chicken vindaloo, which normally I find too spicy to eat. Shiaw-Ling and David shared chicken tikka masala. Carl had a shrimp dish, which I think was Bangalore shrimp. I had a lamb dish from the Chef’s recommendations, which I can’t find on their online menu.
Yummy, yummy, yummy.
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It Opened a Couple of Weeks Ago Film Review: Hancock
I’ve been looking forward to seeing Hancock. This summer there are quite a few films I’d like to see, which isn’t always the case. The ads for Hancock put a very human, dysfunctional face on a super-being, so it seemed really interesting. The first half went, essentially, as expected. I’ve grown more interested in the journey of films because the ends have gotten predictable.
Suddenly, a curveball! I was not expecting that! That sort of thing out of left field makes the movie more fun. After the curveball happened, it followed a different, but still predictable path, with a satisfactorally expected ending.
Little things. Will Smith is an amazing actor. But he didn’t use as much nuanced emotional range in this film as I expected. He didn’t need to be super-expressive, but more than slightly moist eyes on occasion would be nice. Mary Embrey, while actually played by Charlize Theron, has a body type and hairstyle similar Niki Sanders in Heroes. Mary also had very similar mannerisms to Niki. So I kept expecting to see Ali Larter, but ending up with Charlize Theron. It was a bit jarring.
I did enjoy this movie, although I liked Iron Man better.
At the Monday Night Dinner Club, we wandered into the topic of spam. I mentioned my friend, Shiaw-Ling, receiving this rather meta spam and blogging about it. Everyone seemed interested, so here is the link to it.
Enjoy!
I picked up the habit of taking pictures of food in Japan. To the amusement and embarrassment of my friends and family, the habit persisted. I could wax expressive on food, but hopefully you understand. My friend Shiaw-Ling suggested I start featuring food in my blog, and why not?
Keith participated in the Santa Clara Leadership course. At the end, there was a graduation and reception. The food was prepared by students from Wilcox High School, which has a culinary program. Yummy.
They offered substantial appetizers, including Southwest wraps, tofu “crackers” w/ mushroom tapenade, meat on a stick, and this beautiful suite of melon balls served on a cracker with a bed of cream cheese and a honey-mint glaze.
Dessert was equally refined and beautiful. Individual black forest chocolate cakes were served parfait style in clear cups to show the layers better. Small donuts (beignets, maybe?) had an assortment of fillings, or dusted w/ powdered sugar.
It’s one month after Valentine’s Day. I’m struck by the ironic parallelism between Japanese tradition and American.
In Japan, Valentine’s Day focuses on the men. Women make or buy chocolate to give to the men they know. The usually fall into one of two categories. Giri-choco, or obligation chocolate is given to all a woman’s male friends and relatives. It’s a normal quality chocolate, usually pre-bought. Honmei-choco, or “true” chocolate is fancy chocolate, often handmade, given only to the man or men toward whom the woman has the greatest affection.
In return, clever marketers turned March 14 into White Day. This is the day the men reciprocate gifts to the women. “White” is to indicate that women are too “delicate” for regular chocolate, and so should be given white chocolate instead. I dislike white chocolate, finding it neither white, NOR chocolate, so I dislike that approach. However, I digress. On White Day, the men usually reciprocate a gift in excess of what they received.
In the U.S. Valentine’s Day focuses on the women. I’m not sure when that happened. I was taught that couples should equally gift one another on this day. Advertising and the zeitgeist indicate otherwise. Roses, chocolates, jewelry, and ornate valentines are the things to get. These are obviously aimed at women, since most men don’t care for such foofy things. What happened to equal exchange?
Well, in classic American crassness, it’s been fixed. March 14 is Steak and Blowjob Day. *ugh* According to the website, it was developed by a radio host several years ago, and sparked popular culture. As “payment” for the lovely gifts on Valentine’s Day, the men should get steak and fellatio from their women.
That’s the best name they could come up with? Seriously?
*WARNING!* The squeamish will want to skip the following paragraph. *WARNING*
Why not adopt the Japanese moniker of White Day, and have that stand for the creamy “foam” at the end of the act?
*WARNING* Paragraph ends. *WARNING*
Keith and I aren’t terribly romantic, so I’m the only one who managed to come up with a gift this year. Does that mean I get the blowjob? The whole thing just seems silly.
That’s why I’m going to jump on the Pi Day bandwagon. I probably don’t remember as many digits as most of my geek friends, but I do remember Pi = 3.14159. March 14 is 3/14, or 3.14, hence, Pi Day. To make it more fun, people have punned it to be Pi(e) Day. So you celebrate Pi by eating pie. I have no problem with that. How can you dislike pie? If eating pie gets you back in touch with your math, even better.
I wanted blueberry pie.
Don’t get me wrong. I love pumpkin pie, dutch apple pie, strawberry rhubarb pie, key lime pie, and others, but I love blueberry pie, and I haven’t had any in years. Also, I’m currently ill, and you tend to want the unreasonable when you are ill.
How is blueberry pie unreasonable, you ask? It’s really hard to find here in Silicon Valley. Amazingly so. When the fever had me up in the middle of the night, I went to the Baker’s Square website to find the closest one. Shiaw-Ling has bought pies there before and they are quite good.
But they don’t sell blueberry outside of the Midwest! Freaky! So I started hunting around. Most bakeries don’t even sell pies anymore, unless they are cream pies, or made to order. Marie Callender’s sells a blueberry apple, but that’s cheating. I don’t want blueberry-apple, blueberry cheesecake, blueberry-berry medley, just normal blueberry pie!
So I Google mapped “blueberry pie” in my area. Astonishingly few hits. None really local. I had coincidentally been to Heidi Pie Restaurant in San Mateo. It was a great diner with great pies. Too far to drive while I’m sick, though. (Any distance is too long, really. It’s not safe for me to drive sick.) Keith wasn’t thrilled with the idea of fetching a pie, either. “Why not just get a frozen one from the store?” he asked.
Doh. I am obviously sick. Why didn’t I think of that? Mrs. Smith’s must make a blueberry pie. I’ve eaten it in the past. So I leave it to him to pick one up on the way home from work.
I was sleeping when he got home, so when I finally woke up, I went downstairs and discovered that once again I have the Best Boyfriend Ever!
Unable to find one at the store, he bought stuff and made one for me! OMG, I know! He is just too awesome!!!
He didn’t put a traditional top crust on it, which is what I expected, but a dutch crumbled one instead. I feared it would make the pie too coffee cakey, but no.
It. Was. Delicious. He served it with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and yummmmmmy!
Yup. March 14 is now solidly Pi Day in my book.
I belong to this Monday Night Dinner club. Mo’s birthday happened to occur on a Monday. After pondering, she decided she’d like to go to a restaurant that serves booze and suggested TGI Friday’s.
Serendipitously, that Monday was available for quite a few folks, so there ended up being 16 of us, including the ever-busy Woz. (The geek boys are still amazed he comes occasionally. But I think he likes hanging out with other geeks. ‘Cause he’s very geeky.)
Woz told us straight up that he was a prankster. So when one of our friends, Janet, found a GIANT gold-capped tooth in her mashed potatoes at dinner, I was a little suspicious. Lots of my fellow diners freaked out, but I made sure to get close-up pictures of it.
Those poor folks at TGI Friday’s. They were entirely nonplussed. They forgave him when he revealed the gag.
I’m told he had it extracted earlier in the day. Hilarious!
Remind me never to sit next to him at dinner, though… It could have been any of us.
Happy birthday, Maureen. It’s one you won’t forget for a loooooong time.
Photos, including close-ups of the tooth are after the cut.
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Wicked early in the morning, Maureen and I flew to Seattle, Washington to see our brother, Kevin. He’s finishing his second month of training before being deployed to Iraq. He had this weekend free, but the Army wouldn’t let him leave the state to come see me.
I promise I would have given him back!
It couldn’t be helped, though, so Mo and I went to see him for the day. He had to be back on base by 10p.m. (or 2200, as he and his troop called it).
This was the big day. The 26th. My birthday.
Mo and I had planned a big party, and I invited a ton of people. Day of prep went a little slower than desired. I expect things to run late. Fortunately my friends tend to run late, too. The ones that show up on time are generally sweet enough to pitch in.
The party went really well, once it got going. It was hard to figure out when to wedge in the entertainment. A bigger description and pictures are after the cut.
I almost missed blowing out the candles! I have some weird kind of phone karma that has people calling me at awkward times. It struck right before Mo brought out the cake. I went outside to answer it. I also apparently stink at getting people off the phone. I swear I tried, but after I heard them start to sing, I essentially had to hang up on him. Everyone laughed.
The rest of the evening went well. I was sorry that I got such a small chance to talk to everyone. I’m told that’s the sign of a good party.
Good.