Dec 9. Which means this is day 30 of 30 Days of William Control. Yesterday, while sitting in the bleachers watching derby (Kill Jills VS Gas City, my Jills did not fare so well. Injuries and toss-abouts galore), I started thinking about getting a “this is where pessimism comes to die” tattoo. Which is how you -know- there’s been nothing going into my ears this month but our Darling Wil*.
This is where we feel love, find life, kill time.
This is where our pessimism comes to die.
Here you can trade your flesh for currency.
Which is fairly darklovey and romantic, until the flesh as currency part, but I suppose that’s subjective, too.
There is also this:
He reminds me of ELLIS UNDERGROUND, and of other, royal things and Umbrellas, and makes me want to start needlefelting again. Perhaps not just him, but there’s been a niggle, lately, of wanting to start sculpting, and there’s a list as long as my foot (I have a very long foot) of things that I want to make/build. I think this? Is a Very. Good. Sign.
*unless I’m writing, because we know I only write to Johnny Hollow.
Because I figure “This is Not a Clubtrack” is perfect for a food blog post entitled “This is Not a Recipe”.
So this what I made without a recipe and crunchy vegetables are not the smartest thing when you are on day 5 of a freaking killer TMJ related migraine but hey, go team go.
i argue in a friendly way with my friend SJack about recipes and how when I cook I don’t use them. I am from the “open can cut up things and shake spices into pot” school of cooking. I think were I to food blog more seriously (and I might, winter is coming and it gets cold here) everything i make would be sans recipe, unless I got it from a recipe then I might be so cute as to link.
Anyway. Curry. This is what the recipe looks like:
Wok type action
Veggie Oil (a smidge)
A few coriander seeds and a couple of star anise and some onions
Heat. Toast. Whatever. In my case? Burn slightly! NOM.
Go into cupboard for tomatoes
Look at can of diced
Look at can of crushed
Be glad I bought a can of diced since diced+curry=good
Grab can, open
Realize you just plunked a can of crushed tomatoes into the pan.
Cut some up and put them in
Add a can of drained chickpeas
Add cumin, coriander (some. Dunno how much and I love them both and Can Not tell them apart so you know, put some in!) add some garam marsala (which is mostly made up of the other spices listed in this not a recipe), some paprika, some tumeric, a punch of sugar and salt and stir.
Get a chili pepper. Wash and bite the end off to determine heat level.
Decide it’s not hot.
Get a glass of milk
Thin slice chili pepper and add
Add some more of whatever or everything! Taste!
Add some ore of whatever or everything!
and that was 30 days of blogging.
Do not be overly surprised if there is No Entry for tomorrow, people of the internets.
so me and Scott finished our 365, only one day late which I think, given the track record of the last few months is kind of what we in the business call SupaImpressive.
In my limited experience people often have something of import to say when finishing a project that took a full year.
Me, I got nothing.
I’ve had a migraine for a few days (my sight keeps going and my teeth hurt) and work is off the charts and much like birthdays, yesterday feels no differently than today except perhaps at some point I won’t feel ‘off’ because I know there’s a 365 either waiting to be photo’d or waiting to written.
I’ll say this much:
finishing a year-long project makes you (me) realize how long (short) a year is and sort of puts into perspective how very.little.else. I did over the last 365 days, save:
work my buns off at office job
lose 40 pounds (so far)
dye my hair blue
see my around the world besties in Wisconsin
take up roller skating
rekindle otherwise laggin’ friendships
watch a lot of movies
witness other besties get married
convince above besties to drive my sad ass to Seattle to see Nitzer Ebb, otherwise known as The Band That Changed My Life
get my drivers’ license
buy a car
become a Super Auntie
see VNV nation for the five thousandth time (I think it’s 7 or 10 or something, actually, no idea)
and go to Kinetik (in which we discovered the Joy that is Faderhead), all the way across this fine land in my beloved city of Montreal.
I think there’s more. That’s just off the top of my head. So maybe I did do some stuff. Maybe I didn’t do enough? Man, some people do all that in a weekend.
Here’s some things from around the village o’ me.
This morning it was blueberry pancakes for breakfast. Nom. Later I want to make risotto with peas and roasted tomatoes and fresh basil. MMMMM.
I bought coffee from the Mountain View Roasterie, a new-ish (by that I mean two yearsIsh old) roaster out of small town AB, and you know, it was good. Just picked it up at the grocery store but it had a roast-date on it and I’m kind of of that mind, now, that we shouldn’t buy coffee without a roast date on it. Because my friends, coffee ain’t cheap. But this is pretty good stuff. It should be, I’ve had four shots of it (not so much in the grand scheme but *slurp*.
Yesterday I made a thing with some stuff:
by ‘stuff’ i mean a single pendant from the beads bought at the Invermere farmer’s market, lovingly photographed on a cover of B:TVS S8, the comic, which, I should note, had the same colour palette and is why this pendant is now called “Anywhere but Here”. I didn’t use sterling silver wire, mostly because I am cheap and also have you SEEN the price of silver these days. Egads and little fishies that business is spendy. Most of the findings are sterling and the beads/sparklins are swarovski and so you know, I’m not exactly cheapin’ out here but hey, a girl’s gotta save some dollaz where she can.
For the record I think I have been using the phrase dollaz ever since I followed Kanye on Twitter. Kanye on Twitter is like having a 140 character version of the twilight zone delivered to your doorstep every four minutes. It’s amazing and kind of awesome and Not From Around Here.
I’d also like to talk about Tokyo Fashion. I follow them, too, on Twitter and I am seriously *fascinated* by the fashion antics of our Japanese friends. They are seriously committed to their self expression and I think it’s superAwesome. I’m also totally tickled that in the Tokyo Gay Pride photoset everyone looks amazingly conservative next to the every dayphoto posts TF uploads and delivers to the interwebs.
I started a new 30 days of project, too. I feel a bit like the Supersize Me guy, Morgan whatever his name is. Spearlock? Anyway, I kind of do. But the new 30 Days of is 30 Days of Dishes in which I make sure the kitchen is not shameful before I go to bed. This may seem a bit like a no brainer but you know as well as I do when you leave the house at 7am and get back at 5ish pm and make supper and sit, and get to bed at a reasonable hour in order to avoid going into work looking like a crackWhore the hours vanish like a vanishing thing. I’m on day 7 and it’s going well.
seriously, I have had this superkiller TMJ related headache for like 3 days but finally caved and bought some vitamins lest I actually have to clean by dura matter off the rug. Today was mucho groceries, trying to get tix to FLA (failed, alas), tix to the Derby (Lassies, although clearly ‘clean bout’ is not altogether in their vocabulary are the league champions but man the Car Hops seriously showed up so it was super fun and I like things that are fun.
Now home to sleepy dog and whatever’s on the teevee but mostly we are hungry, NOM NOM NOM.
I realize this is a post about nothing. I think tomorrow will be better. Perhaps I will ensure it is. Actually I do have a bauble to show you.
i think, some ways, I have the best part of puppies. I love sitting puppies. I love puppies but I’ve had my wee dog (bird, but you tell him that) for ten years and we have a good thing but another actual dog would mean years and years and years of this:
But being a doggie auntie is kind of the best way to do this, I think. We hang, we part. We hang again. We go out and tell people about HOW AWESOME IT IS TO BE A DOG and then I go home and don’t have to take anyone out for a peepoop.
so the other day I bought a sourdough loaf from the Wilde Grainz bakery. Firstly. WildE and GrainZ? Oh, why, oh, why must we do this to english unless for fun?
Anyway. I didn’t find their grainz Wilde at all. I bought a sourdough loaf (for EIGHT bucks. Fo’ Shizzle!? You people are crazy. Artisan bread, 7 bucks max!) maybe I’m just not any good at determining good food from bad and I’m cool with that but MAN. Seriously. The sour dough had a french bread texture (too light, not quite chewy enough and SO not sour enough), and I’m thinking of blaming it on the crumb:
Referring to the interior texture, gluten network, tenderness and general feel of a bread. Desirable crumb size and texture varies depending on the product. Kneaded breads are generally fine and even, although when using sourdough starters the product may contain large bubbles. Batter breads generally contain a coarse crumb.
I’m not sure about you, but I kind of LOVE the term “Gluten network”. Anyway, I think it was crumb and mouthfeel but I was sad about this bread, I must admit.
And now you know.
Today I went to the Holt Renfrew at lunch (this is the department store with valet parking) because I wanted (didn’t we do a lotion post already? Anyway!) to buy the exfoliating scrub I posted about in the lotion post (Keihl’s) and it was customer appreciation day and it was all buy a bunch and we’ll give you some stuff.
So I bought a bunch and my skin feels awesome. And then I used the pretentious hot pink paper bag to store some garbage because carrying a fuschia Holts bag makes me feel like a dink.
The trouble is in a city of a million people that’s the only place to buy it but I was wildly amused by the dude who was also shopping there and touring all of the different counters. He was all “I’ll just be over at La Prairie!”. He made me giggle.
This morning I took the express bus and it was taking so damn long I thought I was in some kind of Stephen King movie where the whole thing was people get trapped on a bus Going Nowhere, except that’s probably more twilight zone now that I think about it and also, yes, this is what happened.
I was on the bus for so long I started downloading songs off the iTunes and bought Improvised. Electronic. Device. (FLA), and almost bought Synthetic Adrenaline Music (SAM) and then I thought good lord, I need a song that’s an actual sentence but maybe not so much.