Tag: meal

Five Minutes We’ll Never Get Back

Saturday, during which lunch out turned Seinfeldian…

Laura (to Becky): Could you hand me two of the yellows, please?
Becky (handing them to her): You like the yellow best? I’ve always liked the pink best.
Laura: Pink is bitter. I have to have the yellow.
Lynne: Blue is gross.
Becky: I can’t believe you’d say that. You love Diet Coke, and it has the blue.
Lynne: Diet Coke is good. Blue is gross.
Becky: (muttering) That makes no sense.
Laura: Blue is suing yellow.
Jess: Why?
Laura: Blue says yellow pretends to be the real thing and isn’t, so it’s false advertising.
Jess: If it’s the real thing, why not just use the real thing?
Everybody else: Oh, no!
Becky: You have to use too much of the real thing to get the same effect.
Lynne: Yeah, you only have to use a couple of the pinks.
Laura: Or the yellow. Because the pink is gross.
Becky: (ignoring the insult to the pink) I don’t know why I’ve never liked the blue.
Laura: The real thing is suing yellow, too, because if it IS the real thing, then yellow has no right to diss the real thing.
Becky: So yellow is screwed no matter who wins. Either it’s an imposter, like blue says, or it’s libelous, like the real thing says.
Laura: Right.
Becky: Sucks to be yellow.
Laura: But yellow is the best. It’s the sweetest of the sweet.
Becky: Didn’t Craig like yellow, too?
Lynne: Oh, no. Craig liked the twin.
Becky: Oh, yeah. The twin is gross. It foams up.
Jess: (nods)
Laura: Yeah, that is gross.

It’s like Groundhog Birthday

Thirty-five all over again!

This past weekend, I had to take my continuing ed classes to keep my MT license up-to-date. If you don’t know what MT stands for, understand that I don’t want Googling perverts to land here; you can find the answer here, and PLEASE don’t use “that word” in any comments (if you do, I’ll delete it). I’ve only just recently managed to stop the late-night phone calls from strange men. I don’t want to start being inundated by e-mails from them. THANK YOU. Be forewarned: The MT profession is about healthcare, not sex, and jokes about it make me really cranky.

Even though I no longer have a practice, it was an investment, and I’m not about to let my license lapse. Of course, I had two years to do this, and waited until the last possible minute to cram my classes into two days. Although the instructor is a personable man who does his best, anyone would have limitations when it comes to discussing Texas law for twelve hours.

After class on Saturday, all I wanted to do was sleep. So on Sunday, I went to the gym after class, which helped. Then I came home and cooked dinner, including dessert.

Bonus photo for TimStalkers:

And finally!, for my birthday, I got Little Miss Sunshine, which I LOVED!

Thank you so much for your cards, e-mails, and posts. Thirty-five is something everyone should celebrate! Again, and again, and again, and again…

Not really Hobbitses

Yesterday after Tom’s usual Saturday morning with AFH’s Stone Soup, we met the Disgruntled Liberals Club for brunch at The Hobbit Cafe, which at its former location was called The Hobbit Hole. This was my first time at the new place (“new” to me only, as it moved years ago), and the food is still excellent. The company included some of my very favorite people in the world. Only Don, our Founder, was absent. This is always the case when I have my camera. I threatened to photoshop him in to our group picture, but the best photo I have of him is in his cap and gown when he got his doctorate. Robin thought that would be appropriate, but I’m holding out. I truly believe that one day we’ll all be together at the same place at the same time when a camera is present.

Robin surprised us with this:
read more–with photos!

Keep it up, mockers

You ever just sit back, put up your feet, and enjoy watching people mock your fear of scary movies? Or maybe theirs is an act of compassion. By taking my fear to a humorous extreme, they will rob it of its energy to frighten me… Yeah, that’s it. They’re all GIVERS! Selfless, considerate, thoughtful…

I do have the best friends in the world, which will be the subject of future posts. Like the one wherein I talk about How I Got to Know My Writing Partners Online and maybe also How the Compound Works (though I’m not sure I understand that question, Steve). Or I may first discuss My Theory of Evolution or Some Random Childhood Memory for Todd.

Meanwhile, speaking of friends…

YESTERDAY’s coffee cup, in this photo that I never had the opportunity to post, is one I don’t think I’ve featured before. It was a gift from Sweet Li’l Amy Sue (who some of you may remember is the former Rex-Tender) sometime back in the early to mid-nineties. The cup was designed by and proceeds from sales were contributed to DIFFA, which is the acronym for The Design Industries Foundation Fighting AIDS. It has long been the coffee cup I reach for most often.

In the photo, you can also see the little V-card that Tom made for me and put in front of my computer monitor for me to find when I awoke. Because in this house, if you want me to see anything? The best place for it is near the computer.

Denece treated me to lunch yesterday. We met at the Galleria. There are many, many places to park at the Galleria. There are several four- or five-story garages and also several underground garages. They are located in the vicinity of different anchor stores. I usually park near Nordstrom, but yesterday I tried a different garage. With my usual ability to step out of my car and go in the exact opposite direction of the one I should take, I ended up in the bowels of the Westin Galleria. If you should ever be a guest of this hotel (as Keelie’s grandmother was in A COVENTRY CHRISTMAS), rest assured: No one gets past the security guard of what is probably the employee entrance.

Once I found my way to Denece, we had a wonderful six-hour visit at the restaurant. (We go between the lunch and dinner rush and we’re always generous with the waitstaff, who let us take a table for the entire afternoon.) Denece always gives me so many things to think about, including insights into the complexities of human relationships as well as the wonderful world of animals (I daresay no layperson knows more about every dog breed than Denece). Plus I got to tell her one of my dirty little secrets. (HA HA HA!) We also made a little trip to Borders, where I ran into the manager, J., and got to thank him personally and hug him for his attention to A COVENTRY CHRISTMAS. He said he just ordered more copies of all the TJB books because he’s building up the stock of the GLBT section. He’s the best.

I have to mop the floors now and ponder my next post, which I may title Gone With The Exorcist, my being a SAP* and all.

*Southern American Princess

Cool Stuff About Wednesday

For the third day in a row, I’ve been at the gym and in the pool by 5:30 a.m. (I love getting to and leaving the gym before daylight.) I really like Clarence, who teaches the water aerobics class. He’s a swimmer and a runner and he’s in great shape. I’d get a photo for you, but we’re not allowed to take photos inside the gym. He’s been there all the years I’ve been a member, and he leaves the gym every day and goes to his full-time job. WHERE do people get that kind of energy?

A few days ago, in the pool, I met Trish, who owns a 1926-bungalow in Montrose (but on the opposite side of Westheimer from our 1928-bungalow). Today I met Jerry, who owns a 1920-bungalow in the Heights. We bungalow people like to stick together and badmouth the McMansions and STUPID FREAKING CONDOS that are hurting the character of our neighborhoods and driving up our taxes.

Today, there was an aerobics move that Jerry just could not do. In a flash of inspiration, I gave him something to visualize and suddenly he could do it. It’s nice to be part of the whole spirit of people at the gym in the morning. Everyone is a little quiet but helpful and pleasant. These are morning people, but they aren’t perky. No one should be perky before dawn.

I came home ravenous, ate a good breakfast, did some stuff, then headed for the Galleria. I HATE SHOPPING. But I had things to do, like getting a present to send to one of our nieces. Done. Then there was some other cool stuff.
you knew there’d be photos, right?

What’ll it be?

Will Famous Author Rob Byrnes force me to wax rhapsodic about the virtues of Irish oatmeal, of which I just had my first bowl ever, compared to the plain old oatmeal I grew up eating?

I’ll be reading…

(Readers may remember that Kieran made Irish oatmeal for Phillip for their first breakfast in THREE FORTUNES IN ONE COOKIE.)

Which reminds me, Gary in KY, did you ever see that I said yes, emphatically YES, to more “Reading is HOT!” photos?

Put the Blame on Famous Author Rob Byrnes

I was reading everyone else’s witty posts and comments when it occurred to me that I’ve done nothing for days but post photos or memes or other insubstantial things (other than my regret that Molly Ivins died). I could use my work as an excuse for being a lazy LiveJournaler, but I think the responsibility actually lies with Famous Author Rob Byrnes.

FARB hasn’t blogged anything since last Sunday–a sort of unannounced hiatus–and as you may recall, when FARB takes a break, I sulk and wilt and otherwise act like a three-year-old in need of a nap. You know, the kind that gets her family kicked off of flights to Boston. (If in fact, I flew at all, much less to Boston.)

However, I think I figured out a way to draw him out if for no other reason than to chide me for a food post. I will NOT BE IGNORED, FARB!

Occasionally, Tom’s employer offers fishing trips southward on the Gulf for various employees. He always brings back a mess of fish. I’m not crazy about fish, but I eat it because it’s supposed to be good for you and it’s low in calories. Whatever.

Friday I thawed redfish from his last fishing jaunt. I looked at redfish recipes online and modified them based on ingredients I had in my kitchen. Okay, truthfully? I found one that used bacon. There’s no time that bacon is not enticing to me–and so much for that whole healthy fish thing, right?

Here are photos of the fish before it went into the oven, and photos of it on the plate, cooked, with fresh, steamed broccoli crowns, corn on the cob, and salad. That’s good eatin’.

Oh. Tom informed me it wasn’t redfish at all. It was saltwater trout. Unless you’re Hemingway, who cares? It was smothered in tasty bacon. It must have turned out okay, because the two pieces that were left over? Someone made off with them to the TimLair, and it wasn’t Rexford G. Lambert.
food photos!