Loz Anjaleez

A few weeks ago Dan had to go to Orange County for work, so I tagged along and we made a mini-vacation out of it.  I can't believe I hadn't been to LA since I moved to New York, over five years ago - uh, sorry Angelenos!  (They all moved too).

Anyway, Dan and I touched down, rented a convertible, and made a beeline for Santa Monica, my former stomping grounds.  First off, I had to take him to LA SALSA.

La Salsa is a chain and any true LA person will roundly mock me for LOVING it, but I do.  Their tacos etc. are fine but the real draw is their unlimited salsa bar:

Yes yes salsa delicious!

Then we walked down to the Santa Monica Pier, where our relationship more or less began.  A tourist took this great picture of us by the entrance:

(Thanks guys.  Thanks) - but we got a better one in front of Rusty's Surf Ranch, an incredibly terrible bar where we shared our first eighteen Bud Lights.

Then we had to book it over to West Hollywood for lunch at Mozza.  But we still drove by some old haunts.

We arrived at Pizzeria Mozza an hour and fifteen minutes late (oh right, LA has traffic) but they squeezed us in and we proceeded to have an absolutely ridiculous meal.  It started with this caprese plate, which you know, whatever, tomatoes and mozzarella, but the blistered tomatoes were perfectly sweet and the cheese was so soft and creamy... really good.

Then we had a plate of arancini, which were the best arancini I've ever had.

Followed by a pizza.  This pizza was perfect - the crust is thin and crunchy, and the outer edges perfectly light and crisp.  Seriously, it was perfect.

We sat by the bar and watched the chefs assemble each pizza, including the one on the left covered in zucchini blossoms.  So cool.

Then dessert.  Okay.  This dessert.  It's a sundae ("it's our play on a sundae," the server said.  Ummmm okay ice cream + toppings equals what else?) of burnt caramel ice cream, caramel sauce, marshmallow sauce, and salted peanuts, all sitting on a thin waffle cookie.  It was OUTRAGEOUS.  Oh dear.  I can't even think about it.  Dan and I fought over it.  I want another right now.

Later that night we had dinner with Kristy and her boyfriend, met their cats, saw their apartment, and caught up.  It was so nice.  This is the only picture I took:

A skateboarder we saw from her roof.  I'm an idiot.

Hurricane Irene/Sasha

Mom and Scott, without consulting Marty, took in an adorable houseguest for the hurricane:

Marty was not amused.

What?!

My first earthquake was in California, a few years ago.  I thought someone had dropped a heavy book.  The second was a few months later, also in California.  The pictures on my wall rattled.

Today was by far the biggest tremor I've felt, in the West Village of Manhattan!  What?!  My desk bobbed up and down for about 30 seconds, and as it happened, everyone else began to pop their heads up from their desks.

"Do you feel that?  Anyone?"

As it continued, you could see people decide whether or not to panic.  Do we run outside?  Should I not have skipped out on the domestic terrorism drill last quarter?  And then it stopped.

People even went to the windows.  You're totally not supposed to do that.

THE WALL

I was very over the wall in the living room.  So I took everything down.

Rearranged it all on the floor.

Bianca observed with skepticism.

You know what?  I'm also over all the yellow.  So I painted.

Who's OCD?  I am!  In that light, let's make newspaper patterns of all my picture frames!

I thought I took a picture of all the newsprint bits arranged on the wall, but I didn't.  So just take my word for it: I hung up all the newspaper thingies on the wall, rearranged them until they looked good, measured where the nails should go (kind of like this), nailed the nails into the wall, and then tore down the newsprint and OMG THIS IS WHAT I ENDED UP WITH:

A picture of Pippa Middleton's ass.

On my wall.

Arranged like this.

Ugh I need to straighten out everything with Fun-Tack and a level but I've had like three glasses of wine so let's not do that right now.  It's a work in progress.

Don't Panic

I haven't felt like writing anything recently.  Sorry.  I'm not depressed or anything - just using my lunch breaks to go outside instead of natter on about my new haircut.

So... go outside and enjoy the rest of summer!

Fenway Is Fun

EITHER Dan had just told a really funny joke immediately before this picture was taken...

--OR he had decided it would be hilarious to grab my boob in front of our entire section.

Eh, he wasn't wrong.  It was pretty funny.

Corn!

Lately I've been eating a lot of corn, because it corn season started late this year and I have to make up for lost time.

Here's my favorite way.  I call it "Spiky Creamed Corn":

Strip the kernels from four ears of corn.  Mince up a tablespoon each of garlic, ginger, and a hot pepper and add them to your bowl o' corn kernels.  Heat up a glug of oil and a little pat of butter in a saute pan over medium-high heat and dump in all the vegetables.  Saute for a few minutes, until they turn brown around the edges.  Pour in about a third of a cup of cream.  Stir it around, let it cook and thicken, and remove from the heat once the cream has a nice silky texture.  Top with sliced scallions.  That's it!  I made this for dinner the other night (with some other stuff) and Dan declared it delicious.  He had to, because after he saw the pan and said, "This looks good, but nothing beats plain old corn on the cob," it became very clear that backpedaling was necessary if I were ever going to make dinner for him again.

To make plain old corn on the cob, BTW, you boil two inches of water in a deep pot and add your shucked ears of corn for like two minutes.  That's it.  It's CORN.  You can't undercook it.

Furmination: Spreading the Wealth

Scotty scoffed at my Furminator ("so it's just... a brush?") until I had one sent to the house in Jerz.  Now Marty is Furminated 2-5 times per day.  He sheds a lot.

A colleague also purchased the Furminator based on my recommendation, and was FLOORED by the amount of fur.  "It's like having a second cat!" she said.  "A Ghost Cat!"

Maaaaarty the Ghost Cat has invaded!