Yay Pots and Pans

Today's Dining section featured a lovely picture of southern-style black-eyed peas in a hoity-toity enameled cast-iron Dutch oven from France:

Why, that's the same hoity-toity enameled cast-iron Dutch oven from France that I have!  Even in the same color.  I love it when my good taste is confirmed by national newspapers.

The only bad part about already owning a full set of fancy cookware and nearly every conceivable kitchen gadget is that it makes registering for wedding gifts a bit of a challenge.  For a while, it was just six gratin dishes, a Dyson vacuum, and a kegerator.

Oh, and a Wii.

We're very modern.

Also, it's the last few days of 2009, AKA the last few days of December, AKA the last few days of the nonstop foodfest* that's been going on since November.  So maybe I should take advantage of this last chance at total fattitude and make a luxurious mac-n-cheese tonight.  In my fancy French Dutch oven!

Things go back to healthyness on 1/4, when we return from Vegas.  It's the first day of the broadcast year, so I think that counts.

*I was so good for a while, after my whole let's-be-macrobiotic-while-Dan's-out-of-town kick.  I made it through the Provost "Let's Put Out a Ridiculous Spread and also mix Fancy Cocktails!" Holiday Party and John and Dana's Ugly Sweater Party (which should really be called "Party featuring Dana's Dips" because holy cats, people, Dana realllllly knows how to put out an incredible array of superfatty and of course incredible dips) relatively unscathed.  Then I just started eating everything in sight, provided that said thing was not a fruit, vegetable, or whole grain, and stretched out my stomach to the point of nonstop ravenousness.

Pretty Pretty Paper

Who doesn't love a good paper product, right?  I love a good paper product.  I also love a good paper product that is not a zillion dollars, so I've been devoting way, way, way too many brain cells to finding hawt paper products/printing methods for The Event at the cheapest possible prices, because these things suddenly... matter?  Sigh.  Recently, I kind of took a hiatus from such searching (see: meltdown) and blissfully forgot about an inquiry I made about getting samples of Crane Lettra paper, aka The Paper of The Gods, to which I never got a response.

Or so I thought, until this came:

I have to say, good on Neenah Paper.  What they might've lacked in email responding skillz they more than made up for in the sending of a free gargantuan package containing many large sheets of very expensive all-cotton paper.  I'm pretty stoked to cut these bad boys up and send them on a test run through the printer!

See, bride brain isn't all bad.

Kind of.

It's Here! It's Here!

Eh, actually, I'm not that excited about it.  I'll SEE it, OF COURSE, like, WHO DO YOU THINK I AM OF COURSE I'M GOING TO SEE IT, but I'm preparing for the letdown afterwards where I try to convince myself that it was awesome and then later, when I watch it again, realize that it was pretty bad.  If I were Carrie's real life friend, I probably wouldn't talk to her anymore, because dude, you and Big have been at this stupid dance for TWELVE YEARS.  I AM SICK OF IT.  FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO TALK ABOUT.

So who's with me for opening night???

Avatar

The first teaser for Avatar looked super cheesy, no? Like the rest of America, I made a lot of Jar-Jar Binks jokes.

Dan and I decided to see it anyway. It was incredible.

Most of it is CGI, but on a level of realism I've never seen. You really forget that these are just actors in silly-looking motion capture suits in front of a greenscreen; their facial expressions and stuff are just so detailed and dead on. The world that Cameron created is incredibly beautiful, and the 3-D enhances everything and makes it, well, real.

The story is nothing to write home about. But hey, it worked for me. Sigourney Weaver was an unexpected treat as hard-boiled superscientist Dr. Grace Augustine! And there's only about ten minutes of ubercheesy schmoopie dialogue, total (plus a valuable mineral called - I am not making this up - UNOBTAINIUM). So if you're looking for meaty dialogue or relatable stories of personal growth, you should probably go see Up in the Air. OTHERWISE, see this.  It was different.  I hadn't seen different in a while.  And there's an ass-kicking lady alien in it!  I always like to see that.

Our Landlord's Deck

One of the fun things about moving is giving tours of your new apartment to all your friends. We start with the private entryway, stand and chat in the hall for a few minutes, and then show off our giant bedroom. Then we breeze through the living room (less giant), stand around and marvel at all the wasted space in the kitchen, and solicit ideas for pieces of furniture to put in the bathroom (Dennis suggested a chaise).

One popular stop on the tour is when we instruct the visitor to look outside the bathroom window and down onto our landlord's amazing deck. It's huge, gorgeous, and boasts several space heaters. We've never seen anyone out there. One day, though, while marveling at this unused treasure, something strange was noticed.

Do you see it?

Let's zoom.

You guys! The deck is just a place where their dogs shit! WTF?!

And that concludes our tour.

Good Spender

Remember how in an orgy of consumerism I purchased two pairs of shoes from J. Crew, intending to return the pair I liked less?

Well, they came.

And I love them.

How could I choose?

Both of them.

So I'm keeping them both.

As penance, I will get rid of three pairs that I already own and never wear.

Eventually.

This Is Real

This month's Golf Digest cover (for real.  This wasn't made up by a Gawker commenter or anything):

Something tells me Michelle would not appreciate 8 of the 10 tips Obama can take from Tiger.

Shoeage

What's that, wedding industry?  You wanted me to buy stuff?  FINE.  I'LL BUY STUFF.

In order to get my dress hemmed, I need to decide what shoes I'll be wearing.  I was thinking of wearing ones I already owned, but whatever.  I need new shoes anyway.

So I ordered these two:

The bluey one is my favorite, obvs, but they only had a 6 1/2 and I'm a 7.  But I ordered it anyway.  These shoes run big, maybe?  And then I will choose the one I like in the privacy of my own home/in front of everyone at the office.  Or maybe I'll just keep them both!  Why not?  IT'S MY DAY.

Meltdown

Yesterday I had a bridal meltdown.  I've had a couple, but this was the first where someone bore witness.  It wasn't pretty.  It began during the workday, resulting in a nasty, ranting blog post that I thankfully never published, took a break during our office holiday party (the party and its tub of queso deserve a post unto themselves... um, it was not a macrobiotic day), flared back up during said party when someone asked me about wedding planning (to my nowhere-near-getting-engaged friend: "Oh my God.  DON'T DO IT."), and then ended with me weeping on the couch as Dan tried to make sense of the blubbering, flailing mess he had agreed to take on as a life partner.

So, some things need to change.

One is that I try not to blog about the wedding at all, because this isn't a wedding blog and people consumed by their weddings are lame and annoying, but the wedding is currently a big part of my life and I feel stifled.  So I'll be doing some wedding blogging.  It's MY BLOG, guys!  I can blog about searching New York thrift stores for glass candlesticks to use in lieu of floral centerpieces if I want to!  I think that having a written outlet will help me get my wedding craziness out into the ether and more importantly, out of my head.

Two, I need to take breaks from party planning and talking about party planning.  My mom and I have had some tension lately, and I think part of it is that really, all we talk about is the wedding.  We have other stuff to talk about.  So I should probably limit talking about the wedding to every other day.  Maybe every three days?  I'm not sure that's realistic.

Three, I just have to go with it.  Part of me thinks that we rushed into deciding on a big (well, not that big... hence all of our guest list drama... but big to me), fairly traditional wedding, but that's what we're doing, so from here on out, I will stop it with the ambivalence and embrace it.  It's going to cost money.  Lots of it.  But we've decided to part with it, so... I should spend it on stuff and not be my usual penny-pinching cheap-o self and also stop driving myself crazy looking for the absolute lowest price for everything.

So I will buy stuff.  It's ok.

Starting with these?

Only $1,926 (sale!) at NeimanMarcus.com.

Macrobiotics, Bitches!

Yaaaaay.  I'm still on my Crazy Diet, if by "still on" you mean "on when I happen to be eating a healthy meal right at that exact moment."  But actually it's ok.  Last week I had several light-headed moments but I didn't cave!  Yes!  Starvation!  As I told Blondie, I became insanely sensitive to salt, felt uncomfortably close to British Emily from The Devil Wears Prada when she doesn't eat anything but the occasional cube of cheese, and would take a shot of maple syrup when I was feeling um, dizzy.  Surprisingly effective!

I had some detours.  Yaf was in town and we went to Dirt Candy, which was fantastic, and last night Dan got back and we went to dell'anima for his birthday.  It was um, not light.  Worth it though.

And now I'm eating last week's macrobiotic leftovers for lunch!

?

I try not to be a) mean about or b) envious of other people's weddings.  I'm sure that people will find plenty to complain about and/or covet from mine, right?  And one of the things I wanted was a dress that isn't particularly timeless or classic.  Like, I want to tell my kids, "Don't worry, it was very stylish back then."  (That's what I got. You can see it later).

But do you think that's what Caroline Kennedy was going for, back in the day?

Hm.  If that's the case... I might have to rethink this.

Crazy Girl Week!

We had a great Thanksgiving (Mom had the brilliant idea to go to the Short Hills Hilton for Thanksgiving brunch, thereby eliminating all cleanup after gorging ourselves on mashed taters and the crab claw table).  Dan's mom came for the In-Law Meeting, which went well, and we all spent most of the holiday cooing over the three Foster Kittens of Cuteness.

Then Dan left for Mexico.  Family vacation at an all-inclusive resort.  So, naturally, while he spends the week feasting on chips and guac, make-your-own-omelet-bar omelets, and pina coladas, I am going to do what any sensible girl does in my position: go on a Crazy Diet!  Yaaaaaaay!

Crazy Diets are not like Healthy Eating Plans, which are, as Emily Gould is correct in saying, boring.  Crazy Diets, on the other hand, are sooooo fun to obsess over and overshare about with everyone you know.   Then said everyone you know tells you how you shouldn't try to subsist on almond milk smoothies because you're perfect just the way you are!  Upon hearing this encouragement, I like to smile serenely, shrug, and take a spoonful of cold raw-vegetable soup.  Hey, we all have to get our kicks somehow.

I've tried many a Crazy Diet - almost all? - and so: this week's Crazy Diet will be a combination Master Cleanse, GOOP Detox, and Blueprint's newest diet-disguised-as-"Oh I'm just being healthy"-diet, "Juice 'Til Dinner."  Oh, plus coffee.  Crazy Diets take misery to the next level by eliminating caffeine.  Maybe that's what makes them Crazy?

Anyway, I have to do it this week because Dan said that if I do a Crazy Diet while he's around, he'll break up with me.  Have fun in Mexico, my love!

Cute Overload

First, this is not a new video, but enjoy a beagle puppy attacking a Rottweiler ten times its size:

Beagle Puppy Attacks Rottweiler - watch more funny videos

Second, Dan and I went to Jerz for the weekend and my parents have new foster kitties.  One is two months and the others are two weeks, so you can imagine the cute-appreciation part of my brain basically shorting out.

Right.  

We were home for a wake.  That's the not-cute part.  A childhood friend of mine passed away last week, from a still-undetermined, fairly sudden respiratory illness.  I can't really express how devastated I am for her family, which has already seen far more than its fair share of tragedy in the past few years, and of course for her... we kept in touch only sporadically, but she was really the nicest person, and she had a great life ahead of her.  It's unfair.

The good part, which is to say not additionally tragic, is that she was at a good place in her life: close with her family, embarking on a new career that she loved, and in a happy relationship.  It reminds me to seize the day and all that stuff.  Or at the very least, not put off going on vacations.  Or getting married.

Or getting kittens.

In Which I Nag The President

I love the president as much as the next arugula-shewing elitist, but come on dude.  What's with the jacket?

You know Michelle saw that and was like, "Didn't I put that in the Goodwill pile?"

Oh Deer

Ok, I love Amanda Hesser's food writing. I've read Cooking for Mr. Latte multiple times, despite its unfortunate title. Her new website is great, and whenever her "Recipe Redux" column appears in the Times, I get giddy.


But this week's essay, on rediscovering and updating the Italian peasant snack bagna cauda, an assortment of vegetables that one may dip into a garlic and anchovy-infused butter/oil dip, is a little much.


For example, to make the dish, Ms. Hesser suggests:
Get out your pan or that little cazuela you bought in Europe that’s been collecting dust. Assemble the olive oil, butter, garlic and anchovies that you already have in your house. Then trim that overload of vegetables from your Community Supported Agriculture and make the dish.


Ummm... I don't know, Amanda. I used my CSA produce in a French-style vegan cassoulet already. Also, a friend borrowed the little cazuela I bought in Europe for an in-home screening of her latest avant-garde video art project. Is it ok that my olive oil is from Spain instead of Puglia? What ever am I to do???

The Weekend in Cookery

I went to the farmer's market for the first time in far-too-long this past Saturday and went a little crazy.  Everything looked so freaking scrumptious!  I bought beets and several kinds of leafy greens, including pea shoots, and some smallish butternut squash that I immediately turned into soup.  They didn't have any eggs, though, which was too bad.  I'm still reeling from the egg video and would prefer to buy them directly from farms, you know?  But anyway.  The squash.

Butternut squash soup, which I learned about from Barefoot in Paris, is simplicity itself to make: first you chop an onion and start sweating it in olive oil (or butter, if you're feeling authentically French).  Then you peel the squash with a vegetable peeler, cut it down the middle, scoop out the seeds, and cut it into chunks.  Put said chunks in the pot with the onions, add some other flavorings if you feel like it (mine were: cumin, half a cut-up apple, some vermouth, a lot of salt, and red pepper flakes, which upon reflection I wish I'd left out.  Saffron might be nice), fill the pot with water or broth, and let it simmer while you clean your apartment, until the squash is falling apart.  Then you blend it up using your preferred blending tool.  Those lucky enough to own an immersion blender will use it here, but you can also use a regular blender or a food processor or a food mill, or, if you are truly gadget deprived, a fork.  Swirl in a little cream if you like (I do!) and that's it.  Dan isn't nuts about this soup, but I love it.

Ooh, here's another soup that's even easier: combine the flesh of two avocados with one seedless cucumber in a blender.  Add salt to taste.  THAT'S IT.  I'm sharing that here because Ash made it on Top Chef a few weeks ago, and even though it sounds innovative and happens to be delicious, I was like, seriously, you made that two-minute soup on television?

Back to squash soup.  I ate mine with a high-fiber salad of thinly sliced mustard greens, kale, cabbage, carrots, green beans, and pea shoots.  (Pea shoots, btw, taste like peas).  I made a similar salad as part of last night's dinner for me and Dan with roasted broco-flower on top and Dan couldn't stop eating the broco-flower.  "THIS IS MY FAVORITE THING EVER," he said.  Moral of story: buying eight kinds of greens at the market is worth it.  And also, I'm trying to be less fat.

Neighborhood Restaurants

Inspired by the Amateur Gourmet's Park Slope wrap-up and eager to take a break from wedding stuff, here's my Look Back At Williamsburg Eateries, Bedford Stop Area, Now That I Have Moved.  There's no real reason to do this, as we moved ten minutes from our old place and still eat around there all the time, but whatever.  These were my Williamsburg Staples: not necessarily the qualified best places to eat in the burg, but with a quality - be it excellence, convenience, or just plain cheapness - that kept me going back.

Fornino

(fancy pizza)

The first time we went here, we sat alone in the back room and the servers forgot us.  I don't remember much about the food, because I was hungry and pissed.  So when we went back, well over six months later, I was warily open-minded, and pleasantly surprised.  The pizzas here are wonderful and the place is perfect for dates, like, good lord is it perfect for dates.  Dan and I went there for our two-year anniversary, since we'd just gotten back from a wonderful, money-hemorrhaging vacation in Ireland and didn't want to drop anymore Benjies.  We got the funghi misti and still do every time.  It's awesome.

Fette Sau

(Carolina barbecue)

I'm kind of over barbecue at the moment, but if you aren't, Fette Sau is the place to be.  Note: if you have a non-red-meat-eating or vegetarian friend who's all easygoing about it, who says, "oh, I'm sure I can find something," be nice and don't bring them.  They won't find anything.  They'll drink two beers from the excellent beer selection and then get drunk instantly because all they can eat there are pickles.  The baked beans, btw, are amazing.  And I don't even like baked beans.

Radegast Hall and Biergarten

(Czech beer hall)

No one goes here for the food, but the grill in the back is great.  They specialize in kielbasa and other phallic items, but the portobello sandwich is my favorite.  The fries are good too.  And they have several varieties of mustard.  This, btw, is the best drinking spot in Brooklyn, maybe all of New York.  Maybe all of the US.

S&B

(Polish)

Sacreligious for me to still love this place while living in the Polish restaurant capital of America, but the Polish Platter (kielbasa, pierogi, mashhed potato, sauerkraut, golumpki) is like ten bucks and feeds two people!  And it's awesome!  I also like the borscht, and have never tried anything else.

Egg

(breakfast)

I'm also, sadly, starting to be a little over Egg.  But it's still the best breakfast in New York and worth the insane lines and used-to-be-quaint-but-you've-been-popular-for-three-years-now, get-it-together-already inept service.  It's southern-influenced and you can get cheese grits or scrapple with your already cream and butter-fortified meal.  Excellent coffee.  Excellent everything.  What am I saying?  I love this place.  Be good to yourself and go early, on a day when the weather sucks.

Vinnie's Pizza

(pizza)

Are you totally over authentic pizza and froufy, homegrown toppings?  Do you want to give Italy's, and for that matter, New York's, culinary history the bird?  Are you maybe drunk?  Vinnie's is the place for you.  Mmmmmm.  Pizza with macaroni and cheese on it.  Nacho pizza.  Pizza with barbecue sauce and ranch.  Buffalo sauce pizza with blue cheese dressing.  It's deliiiiiicious.  Also, strangely, very vegan-friendly.

Aurora

(fancy Italian)

This is a fancy Italian place that only takes cash even though it's kind of expensive.  I should take my dad here.

Miranda

(Latin-Italian fusion)

They have a special where you get three courses for $25!  It's kind of fancy but not really.  And the food is great.  When it isn't crowded, I'm so sad.

The Bagel Store

(bagels)

Big bagels.  Bumpin' tunes.

Teddy's

(American?  I don't know.  Pubby but not entirely pubby)

This is my favorite restaurant in Williamsburg.  There.  I said it.  It's a bar, it's near the new Pool Party site, it's not that far from our new place, and the food has always been fantastic.  They do extensive specials of seasonal stuff, so I don't think I've ever even ordered off their regular menu.  Just go!  It's great!

And those are my Williamsburg staples.

Pages On Strike

You guys!  Holy shit!  The NBC Pages are STRIKING!  I'm sure the WGA will have their back.

Wait a minute... how come the girls' jackets don't have shoulder pads?  Why do they have saucy, low-cut necklines?  Where's their required navy pantyhose?  Why, for that matter, are they wearing the navy polyester uniforms that got phased out like a year and a half ago at all?  Didn't they see the fourth-hour-of-Today segment when America picked out sleek new suits from Brooks Brothers?

And why is Jack McBrayer there?  Mystery!

(While 30 Rock's accuracy in the department of "NBC Minutiae" is unparalleled, I have to quibble that the real page uniforms were so much worse, that according to the rules Kenneth would have been replaced midway through season one, and that if we, as National Broadcasting Company minions/indentured servants/barnacles/eager, willing slaves had even thought of striking, we would have been fired toute suite.  But it's ok, I still love the show).

Engagement Milestone That Is Specific To New York

On a shady bus the other night, I turned my ring around so as to appear diamond-less.

A Very Special Dinner

So last Wednesday, I was s-i-c-k. Stay-home-from-work sick. Go-to-bed-before-Top-Chef-sick (you know that's bad). Miss my first Improv 201 class sick! Really bad! Anyway, I went to bed at 9 that night and when I woke up the next day, still felt assy, but not quite assy enough to stay home. So I went to work. Where I was promptly sent back home.

"You look terrible," my boss said. I e-mailed Dan with the good news that I would be spending another day with the kittens, and that my boss had said I looked bad.

"You never look bad, my lovely!" he wrote back.

So I went home. And slept. And slept.

When I awoke, it was around 5:30, and Dan was home early. Huh, I thought.

And he was in the kitchen?

"I thought I'd make you dinner," he said. "I wanted to do it for your birthday, but I'm really busy at work next week. Plus you're sick, so I figured... um... this would be good..." and then he kind of trailed off. Honestly, all I wanted to eat was soup. But it was sweet. "Okay," I said. Then I started watching Stick It on ABC Family.

It was a very elaborate meal. Seven courses! Course one: olives. Course two: cucumber, tomato, and feta salad. Course three: English muffin pizzas. They were quite delicious. Course five: we were pretty full so we skipped course five. Course six: little warm chocolate cakes. And at this point, I had stopped counting.

"That was great!" I said. "Let's watch Top Chef."

"There's one course left," he said. Honestly, I still didn't know what was coming. Maybe it would be a microwave, because we need one, or a gift certificate for a manicure. Some kind of practical birthday present. And then he came in with flowers. And then... well, you know the rest. I didn't even look at the ring until after saying yes. Then we spent hours calling people, and then we collapsed in a sweaty mess. Here's my favorite picture from the night:

We'd had to shower from said sweaty grossness, and passed out soon after, but can't you see how delighted we are? Why wouldn't I be? People used to ask me if I thought I'd end up with Dan, and I'd kind of pause and say, "well, I hope so. I don't think I can do any better." And I didn't mean it in a self-deprecating way: I meant it, and mean it, in the sense that there could not possibly be a better person for me, or a person for whom I am better, than Dan. Why mess with such wild success? I just love him to bits.

I didn't want the engagement night to end, but the next day was even better, because I got to tell all my friends and receive their good wishes. I basked in the glow of our special Meghan-and-Dan time, receiving gifts like Tiffany toasting flutes from my parents...

And THEN...

The day of our formerly-my-birthday-party/now-it's-an-engagement thing...

I got a call from Katie.

"Semmes just gave me a ring!"

YOWZA!

To be continued.

Eee!!!

I found my wedding dress!

What do you think, Mom?

Or Katie?  We can share it!

PS I realize that I haven't blogged about The Proposal at all, while Dennis has already posted twice about my upcoming mawwiage.  But I will.  I promise.

Someday.

Engaged!

I'll add more later, when I'm not at work fielding congratulations and trying not to get fired for lack of productivity, but Dan gave me a shiny ring last night and I'm incredibly happy!

(Props to Dennis for the new and improved header).

Viewing

I guess the upside of feeling like shoe-gum and staying home from work is, if you happen to be in the television industry, catching up on all the pilots and screeners you should be watching for work.  So, my current reviews of my recent viewing (like the past week or so.  I actually spend most of today sleeping):

Community - Really funny cast and a solid concept that's neither too specific nor too vague.  Chevy Chase is perfect in it.  Whoever put him in a turtleneck suit: A+.  This will make it the full season and then some.

The Office - as good as ever.

Parks and Recreation - Amy Poehler is just better than this.  P&R is a comedy that makes me sad.  No bueno.  Maybe she should do movies.

The Good Wife - This is hardly competition for where I work, but I was really into the premiere.  It's like Nurse Carol Hathaway dumped Doug, went to law school, had two kids, straightened her hair, and is now a disgraced political wife who's still, surprise surprise, a killer legal thinker.  Plus: Christine Baranski.

Fringe - so underrated!  Back and better than ever!  Shapeshifting soldiers from a parallel universe: bless.

500 Days of Summer - I happened to have the screener in my purse.  This was really cute, but I don't get why Tom was all surprised when Summer dumped him.  She just wasn't that into you, bro!

Entourage - I still occasionally tune into this, because for some reason, it still rates and garners critical attention.  YOU GUYS.  STOP PAYING ATTENTION TO THIS SHOW.  Season two was amazing, and I think we should all hold the "tsetse fly" episode in our hearts for the rest of our lives, but seriously, the current big plotline is whether Eric will dump his not-that-cute-especially-for-this-show girlfriend for being too clingy?  They need a murder mystery or something.  Yawn.

Curb - anyone else think Loretta will go the way of George Costanza's fiance, Susan?

Bored to Death - finally.  An elitist New York seriocomedy on HBO.  It's like they've finally made a show about my dreams.

Ew

I'm sick.  Stay-home-from-work sick.  This doesn't happen very much but it is currently displeasing me greatly.

OMG and Wolverine

OMG!  I just realized that my last (self-adulating) post was my thousandth!  Wow!  Imagine all the hours devoted to these 1,000 entries that could have been spent elsewhere!  Meghan Valerio: The Blog is the equivalent of a thousand origami paper cranes, basically.

Anyway, in more exciting news, I just saw Hugh Jackman and his elderly wife over lunch.  They were taking  a small horde of children to the playground on Bedford and Bleecker, and I wouldn't have noticed anything if it weren't for the swarm of photographers surrounding us (I was kind of walking with them.  It was weird).  The paparazzi couldn't go into the park, but were filming them from over the fence, getting shots like this:

It was really creepy.  I'm glad I'm not famous.

BOOKZILLA RETURNS

I didn't think The Power Broker was ever going to end, but it did.  I FINISHED IT.  It took like twice as long as I was hoping, but finally: I AM BOOKZILLA.  FEAR ME.

TTM

I made Tofu Tikka Masala last night, in an effort to get back on the "I don't eat much meat" train. I would rationally say that attendance at the National Buffalo Wing Festival was the final nail in that coffin, but I will exhume the ghost of mostly-vegetarianism as preached by Michael Pollan and Mark Bittman, and rediscover the glory of eating a balanced diet.

This is largely because my mom sent me a video from inside an Iowa chicken hatchery for laying hens, and now I feel like there's a hole in my heart. It shows how chicks are separated by gender and the males are then killed by being fed through a meat grinder. Alive. The video's at the end of the post, and aside from Oprah's "Oprah Goes to Africa" special, it's about the saddest thing I've ever seen.

So. Tofu Tikka Masala. I slathered tofu cubes with yogurt and spices and then fried them up a little - next time I'll skip the yogurt; I think it kept the cubes from getting crispy - and then topped them with an easy sauce of garlic, various spices, crushed roasted tomatoes and a swirl of cream. I mixed it all with fake-saffron-scented brown rice and packed it for lunch. I'm eating it now! And I have to say, it's pretty good. Tofu works in Indian food, I think. Maybe because you can trick yourself into thinking it's saag paneer.

Ooooh

So, it turns out that Casey Wilson did get the boot from SNL. Aw. Now I feel kind of bad about wishing for it. Sorry, Case!

However, I found some fresh info on the new girl, Jenny Slate.

And I think I'm in love.

The National Buffalo Wing Festival

Dan and I went to the National Buffalo Wing Festival in Buffalo, New York, this past weekend. It was awesome. We also went over to Canada for some Niagara Falls action, and overall had a really fantastic weekend.

At the start of the festival, Dan suggested that in addition to the late afternoon National Buffalo Wing Eating Championship, we have our own private contest.

It's called, "Who At the Buffalo Wing Festival Least Needs to be Consuming Buffalo Wings?"

Yessssssssssss

Totally Random Thought

I read the blog of Tim Urban occasionally, and occasionally he does a series on things that annoy him. It's always pretty dead-on and very funny (he also blogs frequently about traveling in Kazakhstan and Dubai and Vietnam, and being on The Apprentice. In other words, things I won't be doing anytime soon. Check it out). So after reading his most recent lists of things that annoy and delight him, I started thinking of my own. I do these things on the L train. (I used to spend the ride on my L Train Scoring System, in which I assigned points to various riders for tattoo density, jean tightness, esoteric nature of reading material, and whether or not they were biracial. But the yuppie invasion has made The L Game far less exciting lately. It's a pity).

So! I realized that a very significant thing that annoys me is when people try to make me feel bad about liking Billy Joel songs. You know what? Billy Joel's songs are awesome. They tell stories. They're catchy. They meander a little bit in a way that doesn't make sense, which is strange given their catchiness. I think Billy Joel detractors are just jealous he got both Christie Brinkley and the host of Top Chef season one, and they think he's old, and they can suck it. I live in Brooklyn, and I like Billy Joel. And that is my random thought for today.

Oh, btw, SNL has added two ladies for the fall. But have they gotten rid of Casey Wilson? She's useless. Also, her friends were nasty to me at her first show when I wouldn't put them in the VIP section, and... she co-wrote Bride Wars. We should probably keep her away from the movies.

Ow: The Update

After hobbling around for a couple of days, I was reminded that stepping on nails = tetanus. Then I spent another day convinced I was about to come down with lockjaw and die. Then I went to the doctor today and got a big ole shot to complement the big ole nail that was lodged in my heel. Arrrghhhh. But now it's over!

(I have a huge backlog of blogging, btw. But we haven't had internet at home, and work's been busy. So... see you when I see you).

Ow

Just stepped on an upturned upholstery nail.  I thought I was being electrocuted.  Dan got it out, but now I'm relatively certain that the police will be showing up in response to a suspicion-of-domestic-violence call from our neighbors.  Will they believe me when I say it wasn't his fault?

Advice: if you have just moved, wear shoes inside.

Hang With Me And My MMO

I heard about The Guild from Comic-Con coverage, as apparently its star and creator, Felicia Day, was about as popular there as Johnny Drama and Viking Quest. It's a web show. I checked it out - it's modest but cute, and impressive for something more or less self-produced and distributed only online. Plus, novelty value: redheaded Felicia is really into online gaming, and she's hot! They now have a single:

This type of thing makes me feel waaaaay less dorky, as I only get the references that also appear on South Park.

Spanakopita Saves Everything

I knew, in a general way, that Saturday was going to be A Day. Dan and I were planning to U-Haul it to New Jersey to pick up the rest of my crap for the apartment, as well as some furniture that my parents had scooped up at a house sale. I would finally have a place to put my clothes. We'd have a couch. This was necessary.

We got a 17' truck, which was bigger than we needed, but it wasn't until I saw this picture that I realized how much bigger. Also, ugh, Photoshop please.

It also just so happened that this was the night some friends and I had settled on for Food Group. I'd offered to host back when I figured we would be moved in by the third week of August, but I figured it was still fine - we would definitely be back in time to at least kind of put the apartment together and finish whipping up dinner. "I can move a couch up our weirdly angled stairs and then go slap together a cake and ten spanakopitas before 7," I thought. "It'll be FINE!"

By the time we got to my parents' house, we were running about three hours behind. The Flatbush section of Brooklyn is CONFUSING, guys! A man with tusks coming out of his chin helped us get back on track, but it was stressful. On our way back to the city we learned the hard way that you can't bring trucks through the Holland Tunnel. "Not since 9/11," the cop said. "Go to the Lincoln." I started crying. Hard.

"Meghan, STOP CRYING AND HELP ME NOT HIT A CAR," Dan said. At this point he had calculated that the day was not yet halfway through.

"Ok, ok." I found us an entry point to the FDR, which we could take to the Williamsburg Bridge and get home. Oh, except there are no trucks allowed on the FDR, either. We got on anyway, and a dude in a convertible immediately started shouting at us.

"What are you DOING? You're gonna get a ticket!"

We exited, heart pounding, one stop from the bridge. Dan tried to commit sepuku with the U-Haul keychain but I stopped him. Then we got home and unloaded everything, leaving the couch for last. Somehow, I thought that I should tire myself out as much as possible before being Dan's only aid in moving the couch up a flight of stairs. As I dropped it every four feet I could see him fantasizing about having a strong man to help him, but then, amazingly, his fantasy came true. A stranger off the street helped us carry our couch upstairs. I KNOW. That happens??? That happens! I don't know this guy, but I love him. He wouldn't even take a bottle of wine as a thank you. He also mentioned that he'd just been helping another friend move and was on his way home, so when he saw us, he was just "still in the moving mood." Is this person real? I think maybe we dreamed it.

At this point it was 6:15. People were coming for dinner at 7. Do I know how it all came together? Not really. But it did, somehow. I'd made most of the food earlier in the week, including the spanakopita filling, so I just slapped together the phyllo, and it was delicious. We drank a little too much white wine out of our Joan Rivers champagne glasses and bought ice cream for dessert, and all was well. Spanakopita fixes everything.

Summer Party

We had our summer office party last night, and I have to admit that working with almost entirely people in the 18-34 demographic has its advantages when it comes to semi-mandatory socializing. For instance, I kicked the EVP of ad sales's ass in flip cup. I had the game of my life in flip cup, actually. It was like that time in 2006 when I inexplicably became the world's absolute best Cranium player for like two hours. I was the LeBron of Comedy Central. Actually, if LeBron had shown up to play, I'm confident that I would've beaten him too.

This was apparently followed by this:

(I stole these pictures from my coworker's Facebook page. I hope he doesn't mind. Or read this blog).

And then I stumbled home. I've kind of turned into a lightweight.

Death Panel

Michael Schur, the head writer of The Office (he also shows up occasionally as Dwight's cousin Mose), has a Twitter account where he writes mostly about the Red Sox. He took a break the other day to tweet about the Death Panel. No one seems to find this *quite* as funny as I do, but hey, it's my blog. (It's a Twitter thingy, so you have to start from the bottom. You can do it).

1. Death Panel Death Sentence overruled! Thanks for all the support, you guys. Good luck in your Death Panels. Tip: show some leg. Can't hurt.1:41 PM Aug 14th from web
2. My lawyer thinks I have a strong case. Unfortunately, lawyer's Death Panel Hearing just happened and it went badly and he's dead.1:35 PM Aug 14th from web
3. Appealing my Death Panel Death Sentence on grounds of prejudice. Turns out one of the women on my Death Panel LOVES Bill Plaschke.1:34 PM Aug 14th from web
4. Re-do of Talent Portion went okay. They made me take the Knowledge Test AND the Driving Test again, and I hit 2 cones and now I have to die.1:31 PM Aug 14th from web
5. I guess there was some issue with the Talent Portion. So now I have to put the outfit back on, go back in, and sing "Right Round" AGAIN.12:52 PM Aug 14th from web
6. You're not going to believe this. I just got called back into my Death Panel. Ugh. I JUST ordered lunch.12:50 PM Aug 14th from web
7. One guy on my Death Panel thought it was funny to talk like Darth Vader the whole time. I was like, dude, I get it, you're on a Death Panel.12:33 PM Aug 14th from web
8. Not one Hispanic on my Death Panel. When are we going to have Death Panels that look like America?!12:33 PM Aug 14th from web
9. Death Panel members rush into the Death Panel Chamber to cool music and laser light show, like the Bulls of the mid-90's. Very impressive.12:32 PM Aug 14th from web
10. Met a cute girl in the Death Panel waiting room, and we hit it off and made plans to meet up after, but her Death Panel killed her. Sucks.12:31 PM Aug 14th from web
11. During my Death Panel hearing, one of the people on the Death Panel was called in front of another Death Panel, and murdered. Ironic.12:30 PM Aug 14th from web
12. FYI: the Death Panel does not validate, and the parking is insanely expensive. $30! And I was only in there for sixteen hours!12:29 PM Aug 14th from web
13. After you go in front of the Death Panel, they give you OJ and cookies, like after you give blood. It's a nice gesture.12:28 PM Aug 14th from web
14. A surprising thing about the Death Panel: idea of pulling the plug on my grandma never came up. I thought that'd be their first move.12:27 PM Aug 14th from web
15. The Death Panel offices are actually quite nice. Also, you know who was on my death panel? My 3rd grade teacher. Small world.12:26 PM Aug 14th from web
16. Had to go in front of the Death Panel today. Yikes. They are *tough.* I get to live, but they took two fingers and a foot.