5 cosas • Domingo/Lunes • 25/26 Septiembre • 2011
- Mom and I were at Whole Foods (Sugar House) on Sunday night shopping for dinner ingredients. Going to WF (or any grocery store) with my mom is always entertaining, but on this particular evening, something amazing and totally Seventeen Magazine-worthy happened to me. So, Dr. Kathy (mom) and I are waltzing into WF on the hunt for melons. Having seen only watermelons (including these ridiculous “personal” watermelons, like regular watermelons but smaller, have you guys seen them? And they have stickers that say “PERSONAL SEEDLESS WATERMELON,” pretty amazing and First World privilege-y, “I simply don’t take seeds in my fruit.”), we were searching for the honeydew or cantaloupe variety. A nice-looking bearded gentleman named Kale (totally real name) probably sensed our frantic energy and approached us, asking if he could help us find something. My mom asked where the honeydew/cantaloupe were, and he said, “Oh yeah, we have those. They’re in the back. Let me go grab you one,” to which my mom called a bit desperately, “I want a really ripe one!!” Five minutes later, Kale returned with a giant honeydew, handing it to my mom with one caveat: “I’d honestly give it a day or so, but it’ll be really good.” My mom sniffed the butt of the melon and confirmed its ripeness with a “Oh yes. This one’s gooood,” then we thanked Kale and turned towards the pears. My mom, thinking he’d gone far away, says to me all under-her-breath, “He was more interested in your melons.” What Mom didn’t realize was that Kale was actually RIGHT BEHIND HER. He hadn’t gone ANYWHERE. And he totally heard her. Not like, he might have heard her? I don’t know? NO. He heard her. Because he was stocking pears nary 3 feet away. Mortifying (if I were 15).
- Ma & I cooked up a fuggin’ delicious meal (sweet potatoes, steamed chard – not kale, sautéed zucchini and beets from Dad’s garden breaded all-natural chicken with GRAVY holy hell). Then we ate strawberries. Talked about our Thanksgiving trip Eastwards – very exciting! Planning to be in NY Tues 11/22 through Sun 11/27, then bus to Philly Sun-Tues for a quick visit with dear friend/soulmate Joanna (and other Philly staples). I want to fly out of Philly because I’m more familiar with that airport and it’s easier and cheaper to get there – $9 on the train or something. Dad & I ended up watching a documentary called pelada, a film that two would-be soccer pros made together, travelling through 25 different countries and experiencing different pick-up soccer games. Pelada is a Brazilian word that literally means “naked,” or a game that has been stripped down to its essentials. It was interesting and slightly whiny (“I’m white and privileged and want to go prooooooo but now I’m 28 and WAY TOO OOOOOLD”) but I am just being judgmental there. Mostly really awesome stories like paying drug-dealing thugs 3,000 bolivianos to play pick-up soccer in a trapezoid-shaped court inside a Bolivian prison, buying fake Euro Cup soccer tickets, filming and interviewing construction workers who play pick-up soccer on their lunch break while building the World Cup stadium in Johannesburg, South Africa… etc…
- Oh hey, it’s Monday Morning (Fleetwood Mac. Great jam.) and we hear the lawn-care dudes arriving to go about their business at precisely 8:30 a.m. It’s not the most pleasant alarm clock; BZZZZZRRRRTTTT through every window of the house. I don’t like it, but it’s not really our choice (homeowner’s). I can’t help but think what a waste of labor and time and energy and fuel it is. Plus they use one of those BLOWERS which is so absurd for our kind of hippie-dippie house – we’re made of dirt, dirt dirt dirt everywhere, peace on earth, maaaaan, knamean? It scare s the chickens (but then, lots of things do). There’s no way our lawn needs to be trimmed and manicured every week. In the summer before Louise (homeowner) hired the dudes, Jake would only really mowe once every three-four weeks! Nothing like the smell of gasoline and the sound of an edger/blower that early in the morning. (Blarf)
- Work work work. It’s full-swing Fall 2011 semester for these way-too-hard-working-and-stressed-out-kids. Life’s too short, knamean? But whatevskis. I got a paycheck. I will not complain. Walked to jade market on my break for supplement to my lunch, which thus far only consisted of a bunch of mixed greens on the way to compost if someone didn’t eat ’em soon (rescued from my parents’ fridge). I was looking for dressing and I found Brianna’s HONEY MUSTARD dressing, which has a picture of an avocado sliced in half, saying “Great with ripe avocados!” I’ll admit, I fell right into that marketing trap. Bought a HUGE avocado too, and a bag of chips. On the way back to HGL, the funny perky owner of The Rose, Erika, sauntered by and, seeing my bundle of goodies, gasped, “No way! I was JUST ABOUT to buy avocado AND chips, too!” I was like, “Were you also going to get HONEY MUSTARD DRESSING?!” and she was like “NO” vehemently.
- Ma gurl Mary started school today, very exciting also. Spen t my break listening to her describe her adorable French professeur while hanging out on the back steps watching vintage cars buzz into the gated/locked parking lot to the east of our building. A cute bullet-colored (read: dark silver) Datsun from the 60s cruised by with two miserable-looking fancy people in it.
- At about 9pm I biked to the library to meet up wi th Isabelle for friend Rachel’s 25th birthday drinks. I’ll admit, I roped Isabelle into coming with (aka driving my ass) to The Garage, which is about a 7 mile bike ride way up on weirdo-industrial-land Beck Street and I didn’t feel like biking alone. But I also hadn’t seen Isabelle in DAYS. Making good choices. We drove over to Rio Grande where Isa’s beau Andy and Andy’s friend Jared (who is visiting from LA) were finishing up platters of greasy Mexican food. We headed north to The Garage. What a CUTE BAR. Seriously. Isabelle & I were giggling about the layout, like who made these design decisions? i.e. “the galv anized zone,” “the hubcap zone.” Isabelle was starving and the kitchen had closed (11pm) by the time we wanted tater tots, so she ate Andy’s leftovers inside the bar, NBD. A sweet stranger named Patrick gave me an unexpectedly tender hug after I helped him light his cigarette in the scary pit of gravel, framed in stone, on fire. Rachel is adorable and loved her card and tupperware full of cookies I brought (see my last post). There was a rock and roll band(s) and the two frontmen did two AMAZING things: a) shared the mike while singing and b) played guitar BACK TO BACK. And Jared had JUST said, “Man, I wanna see some mike-sharing and back-to-back guitar playing,” because it was that kind of music. AND THEY TOTALLY DID.
posted by Emily