Michael, Actually

We made some beer!

2011-09-05T14:35:00.000-04:00

Matt has brewed beer with friends before, but our place in San Diego was way too small to do it ourselves. Pretty much as soon as we found out we were moving to Kentucky Matt started getting excited about home brewing. So he ordered a starter kit complete with ingredients for a West Coast Pale Ale recipe from Home Brew Mart in San Diego (where the Ballast Point tasting room is in Linda Vista) and we brewed some beer! I'm still fuzzy on the process so I honestly couldn't explain much of what we did but here are some photos.

Supplies

We basically used the simplest recipe possible by using dried malt extract. This provides sugar that the yeast will eat and turn into alcohol. In the future, we'll probably purchase some steeping grains from the local home brew supply store, My Old Kentucky Homebrew, but this was a good way to start.

Adding the malt extract.

After a lot of bubbling and stirring, we added hops. Because Matt is making beer with me we made something minimally hop-y, but all beer uses some bittering hops. I'm sure he'll want to dry hop something eventually.

Adding the hops.

Matt ordered a pot meant for an army or something, so it was too big to fit in our sink and we had to cool it in the bathtub. It made it a little tricky but it worked out. As a consequence of having a giant pot around the house I now want to make a huge batch of phở.

Cooling the wort

Once the beer had cooled to the right temperature, we moved it into our primary fermentor. At this point we used a hydrometer to measure the specific gravity or whatever, but unfortunately the recipe from Home Brew Mart didn't include the finishing gravity so really I still don't understand that part or why we did it. I guess it somehow measures the density of the liquid and that reflects how much alcohol is present? I don't really know. Anyway, we added the yeast, which is what turns sugar into alcohol. Yeast does some awesome things for us humans, if you think about it.

Adding the yeast.

Then the waiting game began. We kept an eye on the air lock (which is what allows the gas produced by the yeast to escape without letting naughty, undesirable organisms and contaminants in) to make sure the yeast was doing its work.

All sealed up!

After a week or so, it technically had alcohol, but again, because I don't understand the specific gravity thing I couldn't say how much.

Beer! Sort of.

Then we were ready to put it into a secondary fermentor to . . . ferment some more? Moving it is called "racking." I really don't understand the importance of moving it before it continues to ferment. I'll have to read up on the process before we try this again so I actually understand what's going on.

Racking.

So then it hung out in this glass carboy, covered with a blanket to keep the light out, for a little more than a week before we were ready to bottle. This is when we added bottling sugar, which is what gives the yeast enough to eat to make carbonation. It doesn't carbonate before that because the air lock lets out those bubbles.

Dissolving the bottling sugar. This will give it bubbles!

Then we put it back into our primary fermentor because that bucket had a handy spigot for bottling, and then we bottled it and put lids on it. The bottling was actually kind of fun, but that may be because Matt did all the sanitizing because he is nice to me.

Bottled!

I should mention that the suckiest thing about home brewing beer is sanitizing everything. It's tedious and feels kind of uncertain. It is super important though because you only want yeast growing in there, not other nasty things. The beer is not quite ready yet as it has only been bottled for nine days, but we decided to try a bit and I dare say it tastes like beer! We're excited and look forward to starting another batch soon.

Remembering Borders

2011-08-05T21:10:00.001-04:00

Why hello there August! Say, have you seen July? I'm told it was here for 31 days but it seems I missed it. I guess I was too busy going to Pittsburgh, seeing Harry Potter 7.2, checking out Louisville's small comic book convention, going to Lebowski Fest, making soap, getting a washer and dryer, and taking a tour of Louisville to have time to greet July at all.

So, anyway I used to work at Borders and it is officially going to disappear now. Booksellers across the internet are reminiscing on good/all right/not so great times as they say goodbye to a fixture in their lives. Even though it is no surprise, and even though my time with Borders was relatively brief and not recent, I am still sorry to see it go.

From July 2006, my third month there.
I stayed for two more years.

With this news, I'm thinking back on my coworkers and experiences there, remembering customers like the women with their weekly stacks of romance novels, the guy who used his dog to flirt with younger men, the 18-year-olds saying their naked lady magazine is for an "art project," the kids spending their allowance money, the elderly gentleman who carried a huge notebook cataloging his classical CDs so he didn't end up with duplicates, the teachers replacing copies of Cirque du Freak books that their students inevitably stole, the couples stopping by after their date at Gordon Biersch or wherever . . .

Then I ended up looking at some old blog entries I'd made on myspace (that tells you how long it's been since I worked at Borders) and that really brought back some memories. There was a great entry from July of 2007 about a guy who tried to make a fraudulent return. When told by my supervisor that his receipt was not valid, the man yelled, his voice shaking and spit flying from his lips, "Why don't you go f*#% your mother up the ass, and if she's dead dig up her bones and f*#% them!" Then he stormed out. That was during his first visit. The next time, when by some weird chance he again ended up at my register and with the same supervisor on duty, he threw a stuffed owl from a display at my supervisor's head before hurrying out the door.

Then there was a post from way back in 2006 titled, "strange things strange men say to me at work." It described a few awkward exchanges with customers, including one with an older-but-not-old man who asked to see my ring (which is an art nouveau style image of a woman's profile in silver). When I held my hand out to show him, he held it (my HAND) for more than a minute (a long time for a stranger to hold your hand) before releasing it and allowing me to finish the transaction. At the end he joked (admitted?), "It was just an excuse to hold your hand."

Then I remembered the guy my friend Justin dubbed my "Mark David Chapman." Fortunately, this is an exaggeration and I have not been shot or even properly stalked. Anyway, my MDC was probably about the same age I was, which would have been about 23, although he may have even been a little younger than me. He had dyed black hair that hung heavy with product over his left eye. He was usually wearing a white dress shirt and skinny black tie. Those characteristics should paint a pretty clear picture. He was not one of our regulars. The first time he said anything to me, I was hurrying toward the back to take my break, which is a time when customers tend to ask for help. So when he said, "Excuse me," I was prepared to refer him to the information desk, but I was not prepared to hear, "I just wanted to say that, I, uh . . . think you're really pretty." So I said like, "Uh, thanks," or something, and I went to the back room to take my break.

Later in my shift, I saw him again and he told me he wanted me to have something. It was a small slip of folded paper and as I unfolded it he explained that it had his number on it. It was a special order slip for a CD from some band I'd never heard of (electonica, if I remember correctly) and so it had his name and contact info. I said thanks and he left. I had no intention of calling the guy, but I kind of admired his guts. As Matt would say, you've got to shoot to score, right?

BUT THEN. I came in one day and a couple dudes I work with said that some guy came in looking for me, asking my name and when I would work again. I was mildly amused but not yet annoyed. Then one day I was at the registers and there was a line and right in the middle of a transaction I heard my name. I looked up and there was MDC on the other side of the queue line, peeking over the display of bookmarks or junky beaded pens or whatever, grinning like an idiot saying, "Hey, Michael, that's your name right, Michael? HI!!!!" So I held up a finger to him, finished my customer, and asked for a break. Then I pulled him aside and explained that I was flattered but it wasn't really appropriate to interrupt me at work, because I was, y'know working and he got completely embarrassed and announced that he would never come back. I said that was his choice, he was certainly welcome in the store, free country and all that, but he insisted. And then he never came back again, at least not while I was there.

Of course, there was also the eccentric cast of coworkers that made up store number 225: from the loud eater to the gym-obsessed dude learning Italian (mostly the dirty bits), from the fab goth horror writer to the creep who ended every sentence with "ladies" (see Demetri Martin), from the pot smoking vegetarian grandma to the too-pretty-for-words-how-does-he-do-his-make-up walking manga character in the cafe, from the over-qualified doctorate holders to the shockingly dumb. They were sometimes annoying, sometimes fabulous, but pretty much always interesting. We had some good times. I wish all of my former workmates (even the ones that were less than a pleasure to work with) the best of luck in the future.

My Name Revisited

2011-06-10T20:53:00.000-04:00

So in a previous post I gave a little back story on my name, which kind of explains the former title of my blog. Basically, I found that I often introduced myself by saying, "I'm Michael . . . like the guys' name." This cut down on a lot of questions, and since I was on the phone for work, it was a handy crutch.

Here in Kentucky, I have realized I don't say it as much. It may be partly because I'm usually introducing myself in person. Whatever the reason, the phrase has organically dropped from my speech patterns. Now, when people ask my name, I find myself replying, "Michael, actually." And that's only if I use any kind of a qualifier at all; sometimes, I just say "Michael."

We've been in town for a while, and I've met people here and there, and no one--NO ONE--has asked me about my name. It's really . . . refreshing. And strange. Matt has suggested that maybe it's Southern politeness. Who knows? I won't be surprised if people ask as we get to know them better. But names tend to be such small chat fodder that I was prepared to field all manner of questions as we met new people. Slowly but surely, we are getting out in order to build our roster of friends and acquaintances (so far, no one has made the team, but it'll happen).

So, in honor of my new introduction, and because I have never really loved the title of my blog anyway, I am re-branding my blog as Michael, Actually. Because really, I'm not blogging about travel or food or politics or fashion or whatever else. This blog is all about me, actually. So that's the new name! It's probably a little weird to change the name of a blog after more than a year, but it just felt . . . right? Plus it's shorter, which I like. The url is still the same, so hopefully there won't be too much confusion. So what do you think? Is it weird, do you hate it? You hate it, don't you? Or do you?

A Reflection on Impactful Books

2011-06-06T22:44:00.000-04:00

So the internet is all aflutter with responses to this article about "dark" literature for teens. I heard about this from Maybe Genius, and while her response is short she shares a few links to a couple pieces that pick at the original text in more detail. I don't plan on delving into the issues with the original piece; this is more a story about me. So if it interests you, I suggest reading the original and a few responses if you haven't already.

If you just want the gist of it, basically this woman, Megan Cox Gurdon, wrote a piece for the WSJ complaining that books for teens these days deal too much with rape, abuse, self-mutilation and whatever other thing she deems inappropriate. She argues that it "normalizes" these things. She attacks some specific books as well as the publishing industry and the ALA. I couldn't even read the whole thing the first time I tried because I was too disgusted with what she had to say. But I finally read it all the way through, and she ends with, "No family is obliged to acquiesce when publishers use the vehicle of fundamental free-expression principles to try to bulldoze coarseness or misery into their children's lives." So it seems she wants to shelter teens from reading about sad and terrible events and situations, even though we can't shelter teens, or anyone, from experiencing sad and terrible events and situations.

Many have responded to explain that this literature actually helps teens get through these issues. And that is so true. Really, I can't fathom how she feels justified in complaining about this. The fact is (and I'm sure someone out there in the blogosphere or twitterverse has expressed this already) if she doesn't approve, that's between her and her kid (who I'm sure is very normal and well adjusted and happy ALL THE TIME, like most teenagers). Why does she want to limit what others can access because of her opinion? The woman just sounds very anti-knowledge to me.

Anyway, the point of this whole summary (because I haven't added anything to this discussion) is to provide background for a personal anecdote. I started thinking about books that cover "dark" topics and also about the fact that my mom never restricted what I read. And then I recalled there was one book that my mom didn't like me reading but let me finish anyway. The book is Alicia: My Story and it is an autobiography written by a Holocaust survivor.

Now, I'm guessing that Mrs. Gurdon wouldn't oppose the reading of this book by a thirteen year old girl. It doesn't cover any of the topics that seem to rile her, and there's the historical element, so surely she wouldn't be bothered. But my mother was bothered, because I would stay up late reading it (I stayed up late reading a lot back then) and would end up bawling constantly. My mom hated seeing me this upset by something. During certain parts of the books, I would just break down shaking and sobbing. I'd cry out loud. I'd curse the world for making anyone suffer as the Jewish people had. I'd already read The Diary of Anne Frank but had only cried at the end. This story had me weeping the whole way through, as Alicia Appleman-Jurman loses family member after family member, lives in a ghetto, escapes from a train crammed with people heading to certain death, goes into hiding, nearly ends up in a mass grave, and lives through many more horrors. Those are just the bits I can still remember, nearly 15 years after reading the book, once.

This book forced "coarseness" and "misery" into my life, more than any other book I read as a teen, although I did read some featuring rape and abuse. It had a profound and lasting effect on me, making the things I learned in history classes real and terrible. I felt disappointed in humanity a bit (it wouldn't be the last time). But it was so important that I read this. Not because it helped me through something, like many young adult books can, but because it taught me something about the human condition, which is what books do at their best. And those books attacked by Gurdon, don't they provide the same service?

Birds Don't Have Teeth and Other Silly Complaints About Louisville

2011-05-24T21:35:00.000-04:00

From the Wikipedia article about UofL Athletics.

So far, I am really digging Louisville. We have tried a number of good restaurants, there are trees everywhere, and we even have a couple leads on friends. But, since I am a whiner and contrarian, I will share a few impressions that are less than positive.

Before we even knew we were moving here, Matt pointed out (most likely in the context of college basketball) that the U of L Cardinal has teeth. Now I can't stop thinking about it. As a side note, it turns out some birds do in fact have teeth, or at least teeth-like anatomy within their beaks (I'm looking at you, geese), which is really a terrifying discovery because I don't need any more reasons for birds to star in my nightmares.
I love ice cream. I love it a lot. But honestly, what is wrong with the portions out here?! A scoop of ice cream should be about the size of my fist. Every time I have ordered ice cream I have received a scoop the size of Andre the Giant's fist. It's too much, even for me, and the other night I was forced to admit to Matt (and myself) that yes, maybe I am mildly lactose intolerant. No human being needs that much ice cream in one sitting!
People out here seem to think that phone numbers don't need area codes, as evidenced by everything from "For Rent" signs to business ads. It's 2011 people! We all have cell phones and relocation is possible, frequent, and sometimes necessary in this day and age. I think the area code around these parts is 502? But how should I know? The local public transit system doesn't even provide an area code for the information line on the nearly useless signs posted at their stops (nearly useless because they only say "Board Here" and don't specify the bus number).
Humidity. I have straight hair but it gets kind of . . . flippy? And suddenly my short haircut is no longer sleek. And while we're talking about weather, the clouds have really dumped on us so far. I'm told this is irregular, which is good, because I moved to the South, y'all, not the Pacific Northwest. If I have to put up with this much rain I should I least get driving distance access to Seattle, Portland, and my awesome friends in that area.
Apex Theaters, a pair of local indie movie theaters, show more mainstream movies than indie movies, but I guess they're better than nothing. I haven't actually been to the Baxter Avenue location, even though it is in our neighborhood, but the Village 8 location is SUPER cheap and has some decent offerings mixed in with the regular stuff. Still, they're no Landmark Theatres, which I could rely on to pretty much tell me what movies I'd like.

There's more, like that produce is more expensive (oh avocados, how I miss you), Trader Joe's does not yet have a location here, and even though we have had some good Mexican food we can't seem to find a decent tortilla. And of course, it goes without saying that the lamest thing about relocating to Louisville is that I couldn't force all my friends to relocate with me.

In unrelated news, Snoopy is back to her Snoopariffic self. She doesn't yet seem comfortable outside, but she's down to hang out with the people in her household. No complaints there.

A Bit Heavy

2011-04-13T12:59:00.000-04:00

I've been meaning to post for while and this week I have no excuse since things have settled down a bit. I was so focused on finishing up my tales of my February trip that I haven't really updated much about the move or anything like that.

From the living room of our new place.

I'm in Louisville now, and I had plenty of posts planned about all the things I'll miss about San Diego, or all the things I look forward to about Kentucky, or about notions of home. Plus, it's National Library Week, so I have been meaning to post about that. But somehow I just haven't been in the mood . . . And then I feel guilty for not keeping up with my blog, even though it's something I choose to do and therefore should be fun.

I guess I feel guilty for more than just not blogging. Instead of being productive by unpacking or looking for a job or even writing I'm squandering my time on the internet, playing trivia games or reading semi-informative but humorous blogs or not at all informative but wicked funny blogs or discovering new (to me) webcomics or browsing wikipedia for hours on end and then realizing I'm reading about Jack the Ripper or horrible sea creatures (aren't they all horrible?) when that wasn't my intention.

If you want insight into my brain and my life, go read this incredibly relatable Hyperbole and a Half post about being an adult. Even if you don't want the insight, read it anyway because the blogger is hilarious. This is basically what happened with my promise to correspond with a bunch of strangers, and I'd like to get that started again but I need to get to a point where I can trust myself to follow through, because everything went well for a few months but then I just . . . got distracted or something and again, the guilt has prevented me from picking up where I left off. For any of my pen pals that are reading this, I am sorry if I let you down.

Another thing that's bothering me is the behavior of our cat, who has been spending pretty much all of her time in the attic. If this door is closed, she will scratch, meow and pace in front of it until we open it. We don't open it when she scratches, but if she asks (meows) then we open it to let her explore.

Normally, she is a cuddle monster whose only desire is to sit on a lap and be petted. But since we let her come into the attic of our new place with us, all she wants to do is go back up there. She spends hours up there, just hanging out by herself. It would be different if she were a different cat. Plenty of cats are aloof and spend their time wandering around and maybe come to visit you for a few minutes a day. But not Snoopy. She lives for snuggles. In San Diego, when we were home she wanted to be in the room with us, preferably curled up on Matt's lap.

Besides, ignore her unusually social ways and she's still a cat, which means she should still come running for tuna. Well, she wasn't even interested in the tuna I gave her yesterday. I'd be worried that she got into something up there that was unhealthy for her but she seems to be eating, and when she does grace us with her presence she's not lethargic and demonstrates all signs of a healthy cat. Just not the healthy cat I know. I would blame the move, but until I opened the attic door to check it out and let her come along, she seemed like she was getting comfortable. Matt says it's probably a phase and I'm sure he's right, but I miss having her around.

Sorry to be heavy but I kind of felt like I needed to get that out. I don't really even feel lonely yet but I guess all the changes have me in a funk. On the positive side of things, I do like what I have seen of Louisville so far, and I'm meeting Matt downtown for dinner and a play tonight so that will be fun. Incidentally, for National Library Week I suggest you check out this NPR piece which points out many of the joys of a public library and is kind of targeted toward skeptics. As for me, I plan to get my Louisville library card before the week is through.

Angkor

2011-04-05T18:20:00.000-04:00

The famed Angkor Wat

Our time in Siem Reap, Cambodia was pretty much exclusively dedicated to the temples of Angkor. We only had part of two days there, as we arrived on February 22 and left on February 23. Consequently, our time there was jam packed with sight seeing and I'm actually really glad we didn't spend much time looking around town because the ancient monuments were worth it.

Since I was too busy moving to blog about this sooner, I have unfortunately forgot much in the last month. I do remember seeing Angkor Wat, Ta Prohm, and Angkor Thom. As my memory is poor, I resort to sharing some photos. Really, words and photos cannot accurately describe what it's like to see these wonders anyway.

Kem: Ice Cream in Vietnam

2011-04-02T11:11:00.000-04:00

At Công Trường

So I haven't posted about it much, but the fact is I am an ice cream monster. Matt likes to joke about my "ice cream stomach," which is how I find room for ice cream even though I am otherwise full (the best part of being a grown up is that I don't have to finish my dinner to get dessert!). Naturally, before going to Vietnam I did a little research on ice cream and sweets. Most of what I read suggested that the Vietnamese don't really do dessert the way we do here, or that they usually have fruit for dessert. That may be true, but it was not hard to find sweets there. I learned to spot kem, the Vietnamese word for ice cream, very quickly.

In Hanoi, we went to Kem Tràng Tiền, which we read described as a "motorbike drive-in." I can honestly think of no better way to describe it.

Teenagers dig this joint, based on what we saw. Many of them seemed to be on dates. It was really quite cute. They apparently do sell cones, but they were out. We tried their popsicles instead, and honestly, I found the flavor to be just okay and the texture to be grainy and completely disappointing. At least the atmosphere was good.

Kem NZ was a place I read about quite a bit before our trip. As near as I can tell, it's a New Zealand chain, so I wasn't planning on trying it because it wasn't actually Vietnamese. However, our hotel in Hue had a Kem NZ at the hotel, so we had some. I tried the sticky rice flavor, which was interesting. I don't remember what Matt had, but I remember his dad had the durian flavor so I tried a bite and learned that WOW, durian is not for me (his dad loved it though; durian is nothing if not polarizing). Overall though, the ice cream was pretty good, with an atmosphere more like what I would expect to see in the States (bright colors, trendy design).

Note the sign is even in English

On our second night in Hue we had some really good sorbet at the restaurant where we had dinner. Unfortunately I don't remember the name of the place but the "lemon" sorbet was wonderfully refreshing with an intense flavor. Notably, everywhere we went in Vietnam limes were referred to as lemons. I don't remember if we ever saw what I would call a lemon there. So it was really lime sorbet. I need to try to make lime sorbet sometime, because I do love it.

In Ho Chi Minh City, it was hot so Matt and I shared a scoop from a street vendor selling cones from the back of his bicycle. As with many of our street food experiences, we just held up a finger (as we were just getting one) and took whatever they guy gave us. It appeared to be chocolate, which I tried to stay away from, because I'm sorry but Vietnam just doesn't seem to have quality chocolate. When I tasted it, I was glad we only ordered one cone because it was chocolate with durian swirl. Fortunately, Matt likes durian.

Moments before discovering the flavor.

The best ice cream we had though, and my favorite eating experience in all of Vietnam, was at Công Trường. In researching places to eat, I discovered the Gastronomer, who has a food blog that was incredibly useful for our trip. Based on her reviews of San Diego restaurants, I felt pretty confident she was a reliable source so we took her advice on a few dishes and places. One such place was Công Trường. I found nothing about it anywhere else, but after reading her review I made Matt hunt it down with me. It was not near our hotel but we walked to find it. We ordered the kem dua, which was recommended by the Gastronomer. It's coconut ice cream, served in a coconut, with the juice on the side, and with bits of fruit and nuts on top. It is amazing.

The consistency of the ice cream itself was wonderfully smooth; the addition of the nuts and dried fruit and the fresh coconut from the bowl adds a textural element that complements the ice cream perfectly. The flavor was intense and sweet. The whole experience was made better by the hot weather, which made the ice cream doubly refreshing. I recommend checking out the Gastronomer's post for a better description, as she puts the experience into words very well.

Flushed from walking in the heat but happy.

City Snapshot: Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon)

2011-03-31T12:19:00.000-04:00

Ho Chi Minh City was our final stop in Vietnam. We were told in advance it would be the most Western, and I can definitely see where it gets that reputation. The French style of architecture is more prevalent here, a lot of the streets seem very modern. You can sort of see that in the photo, which was from the roof of the Rex Hotel. War buffs will recall that the hotel was the host of many a press conference during the American-Vietnam war.

By the time we reached this city we had been traveling incessantly, I was still dehydrated from a brief illness, and we were confronted with the hot and humid weather that we had expected but somehow had avoided in the northern and central regions. For these reasons, I wasn't as on top of pictures here as I was during the early part of our trip, which is a shame because this city is a fabulous place to observe the contrast of capitalism and communism. Walking down the street, we passed department stores and plenty of Western name-brand places (the kind I can't afford). We also continued to see the colorful, blocky propaganda posters that undoubtedly address about each person's important place as part of the whole, and also undoubtedly reference good ol' Uncle Ho.

We went into a department store that had its own food court and bowling alley. We went to a restaurant so trendy that we had to dine in the lounge area because we didn't have reservations. Matt and I had drinks on the roof of the Rex Hotel and my mojito cost seven dollars. Sitting on the roof, surrounded by old white people and looking out at the view in the photo above, I almost forgot I was in Vietnam.

However, the city streets still share much with the country's northern capital. We found street food (we ate banh mi here) and a crowded, bustling market indistinguishable from those we saw earlier on our trip. Ribbons of incense smoke twisted out of temples and assaulted our noses. We saw a barbershop set up on a street, the entirety of the shop being a mirror hanging on a fence, a chair in front of it, and the barber with a bag of supplies.

If I ever have an opportunity to return to Vietnam, I hope to make Ho Chi Minh City the primary destination.

Missing Dairy and Learning to Like Fish

2011-03-14T12:41:00.000-04:00

Breakfast pho

So, I enjoy the occasional bowl of phở, but my taste buds are wired for Western food. I love cereal with milk for breakfast, I'm used to corn as a major grain (I live in the US, after all), and I come from a very steak and potatoes kind of family. As a (soon to be former) San Diegan, Mexican food is pretty much just "food" to me. Growing up, the only fish I ate was tuna, and while I have expanded my seafood appreciation to include ceviche and the occasional sushi dinner, I am not a seafood person.

I knew going into our trip to Vietnam that it would be a long two weeks for my tongue and stomach, and used our breakfasts at the hotels as a reprieve from Vietnamese food. At the same time, we wanted to try as many legit places (the kind with Vietnamese patrons) as possible while also trying some famous dishes, because sometimes things make it into every guidebook for a reason, right? I could fill a lengthy tome describing our culinary experiences, but I'm going to limit it to a few of my favorite dishes.

In Hanoi, we decided that regardless of my feelings for fish, we had to try the famed cha ca. It's a dish of bite-size pieces of monkfish that has been marinaded in galangal, turmeric and some other stuff, and then it's cooked at your table with dill and other herbs and served with rice noodles. There are a number of restaurants that serve it; in fact, there's a whole street called Cha Ca that you can visit to get your fill. For our first dinner in Hanoi, we chose Cha Ca La Vong, a generations-old family business that claims to be the origin of the dish and where the only menu item is cha ca.

They are prepared for tourists.

It was a-mazing. For me, it was all about the dill. The turmeric marinade was delicious as well. I got seconds. OF FISH. That never happens. Probably the second favorite thing I ate in the country (the favorite will be divulged in another post).

Just before entering our bellies.

In Hội An, in addition to our fantastic and tasty cooking class, Matt and I ventured into the market for food and drink. During an afternoon walk we stopped for some extremely delicious fresh juice, which I later realized was an extremely big mistake on my part. I ordered lime juice, which was almost certainly watered down with tap water to make the tartness palatable. I am nearly positive that this is what lead to me getting "holiday tummy," which was the only tolerable euphemism I can find to describe it.

My cursed lime juice and Matt's smart choice of carrot juice.

We had better luck that day for dinner, when we decided to try Hội An's most famous dish, cao lầu. Our meal wasn't obtained without a little searching though, because while we had visited several local markets at that point, we still weren't what you'd call savvy so we didn't realize how early many of the vendors close shop. Fortunately, we could never take too many steps in Vietnam without being solicited to try food or buy wares, so a pair women welcomed us as their last customer's of the day.

I could never find it again in a million years.

The legend about this dish is that the noodles are made with water drawn from a secret Cham well. I'm not sure I buy it, but it's a nice story. We watched them plate our food (as we did nearly everywhere), starting with the noodles, then adding greens, marinated pork, and at last, the delicious crispy toppings (some sources tell me it's fried dough, some say pig skin). Were the noodles good? Yes. But I enjoyed the tender pork and delicious mystery crisps far more.

The noodles.

"Tourist Pork," according to our cooking instructor,
is the lean pork that the Vietnamese don't want.

The masterpiece.

In Ho Chi Minh City (you may know it as Saigon), the standout dish was our first meal there. Our flight was late and so we arrived in the first sweltering hot city on our itinerary with an empty stomach. While our traveling companions headed off to find air conditioning, we found a street vendor selling banh mi (complete with dodgy mayonnaise).

Stumbling distance from our hotel.

This is probably the one Vietnamese dish I'd tried the most before my visit, and probably the single best thing to come out of French occupation of Vietnam. The French contributed the tasty, crusty bread, and the Vietnamese contributed the delicious fillings. In the US, I usually order BBQ pork, and it's served with cucumber, carrot, jicama, cilantro, jalapenos, and mayo. In HCMC, we took two of whatever they were making, which included like three different meats/meat products (including one pate) and all of the usual veggies except the jalapeno. Instead, it was smothered with hot sauce. We took our sandwiches to the park across the street and ate what turned out to be one of my favorite meals.

Whew, okay, so despite my intentions this turned out to be quite lengthy. But honestly, the food was like, 50% of my experience there so it's hard not to gush about it!

City Snapshot: Hoi An

2011-03-10T01:23:00.000-05:00

After Hue, we traveled through Đà Nẵng to Hội An by van. Hội An is an old town, and it is quaint and charming to the point of feeling contrived. It seems like the public face of small towns in Vietnam, where all the women wear áo dàis and everyone puts on a happy face for tourists, which are everywhere in town. I didn't like that it felt like an act.

But it's hard not to fall for the ivy covered buildings, the wooden boats, the glow of the paper lanterns in the evening. Contrived or not, it's a beautiful place. Much to my delight, pedestrians dominate the streets. There are motorbikes and even a few cars, but they are far fewer than in any other city we visited. It made our time in Hội An feel slower and more relaxed, and allowed us to drop our guard a bit while walking to better take in our surroundings. Hội An has a nearby beach, which Matt and I did not visit, but we did make use of one of the many cooking classes offered around town, which included a market tour and several incredible dishes that we got to make and eat.

We also found time to drink fresh beer, try the famed cao lầu noodles and enjoy a walk in a less touristed area with riverside homes, roaming chickens, and children that chirped hellos to us as we passed.

Cars and Bicycles and Motorbikes, Oh My!

2011-03-05T18:36:00.000-05:00

Hi friends, here comes another post about our trip to Vietnam. This one is about traffic, which is probably the singular most striking thing about my visit there. There are more motorbikes than cars (I mean a lot more), and far fewer traffic lights than you find in the United States, but really, it's the lack of order and regulation that stands out. The drivers purposefully maneuver their vehicles with a startling lack of regard for road safety.

I took this short video while we drank fresh beer in the Old Quarter. It's not a very busy corner but you can get a sense of the variety of conveyances and the traffic patterns. You can also see Matt's video, which is a little longer and features me eating a donut, here.

We arrived in Vietnam at 10 pm and our guide and driver for our time in Hanoi picked us up at the airport. It was dark, traffic was light, and we were exhausted, but we still noticed a motorbike piled high with flowers, the driver on the way to a nighttime wholesale market.

photo by Matt

Our guide seemed accustomed to the awe we expressed and she explained that the following day, she would teach us how to cross the street. Her instructions: don't run, don't stop, keep a steady pace and they vehicles will go around you.

Motorbikes!

Let me tell you, I don't even like jay-walking in San Diego. But that is the only option here. Even if you find a rare street light, chances are, people turning (either direction) will just go right through the red light. Vehicles will use both sides and the middle of the road, and motorbikes will use the sidewalks, for both driving and parking. You would think this kind of chaos would deter pedestrians and bicyclists, but people have to get around, and they do so in any way that they can. I would be terrified to ride a bike there. I was on edge most of the time because the sidewalks are so crowded we often found ourselves walking in the street.

photo by Matt

And I'm not sure there are limits to what the people there will put on motorbikes. In addition to flowers, we saw cases of beer with nothing tying them down, trees, a bicycle, and of course, children of all ages--on the back of the bike, standing on the foot rest of a scooter, and sandwiched between other riders.

Family car

The crazy thing is, even though the drivers all have to be really aggressive (they'd never get anywhere if they weren't), drivers seem to be more aware of the other vehicles and movement around them, and the average speed seems to be significantly slower. As a result, we only saw one accident the entire time we were there. It was on our last day in Ho Chi Minh City, a girl was heading straight for a car and lost control of her scooter, which slid. Fortunately, she was able to pick herself up, and she seemed to generally be okay.

City Snapshot: Hue

2011-03-01T19:30:00.000-05:00

Tomb of Tu Duc

The city of Hue has a very different feel than Hanoi. Much of that is due to small size and the lush foliage just outside the city limits. It also feels more touristed, in a resort sort of way. The town is pretty small, but it was the seat of the Nguyen Dynasty (of which the last ruler was Bao Dai) so it has much history. With its famed Citadel enclosing the Imperial City, and the numerous tombs in the surrounding area, there's no cause to wonder why Hue draws tourists.

While our first sightseeing destination, the tomb of Khai Dinh, was a spectacular display of beauty and opulence, my favorite experience in Hue was our visit to the tomb of Tu Duc. Here was a guy with an aesthetic I can appreciate. In contrast to Khai Dinh's tomb, which, while nestled on a hillside, is a massive structure of stone and concrete, nature has a distinct presence in Tu Duc's resting place.

The image above is not of his tomb, but of another structure he used during his retreats from the palace. During his day, the man-made lake was stocked with fish and he used the island on the right, also man-made, for hunting (this according to our guide).

I'm on a boat!

2011-02-27T22:50:00.000-05:00

Vietnam has a lot of water: 3,444 km of coastline, over 30 rivers (two boasting fertile deltas), and there's no shortage of lakes either, particularly not in Hanoi. So it's only natural that part of our time in Vietnam should be spent on water-faring vessels.

Our first experience was an expedition from Hanoi to take a day cruise around the famed Ha Long Bay:

In Hue, we had the quintessential tourist experience with a short dragon boat ride on the Hue River:

Our last boat ride was by far my favorite: a leisurely mid-morning to afternoon glide around the Mekong Delta near Cái Bè. It was warmer in the south, but the gentle breeze on the water kept us comfortable. It is a contender for my favorite experience during the trip:

Video from Matt

Put Your Money Where Your Pink Is

2011-02-27T03:05:00.000-05:00

Awareness is important, but so is action. A friend is participating in the Komen San Antonio Race for the Cure this year, and her goal is to raise $2,500 for breast cancer research as well as for nonprofits that provide screenings, treatment and education. If you'd like to help her reach that goal, check out her blog or her team page.

City Snapshot: Hanoi

2011-02-26T03:23:00.000-05:00

A street in Hanoi (Mã Mây, maybe?)

On February 10th Matt and I departed for our first visit to Vietnam, and my first trip outside of North America. En route, we met up with Matt's dad and his dad's wife, who you could call our hosts since they planned the trip. We all arrived late on the night of the 11th and were welcomed with the sight of an overburdened motorbike on the dark road into Hanoi, a perfect way to begin our two week adventure.

We stayed near the Old Quarter, a place with such hustle and bustle that it's impossible to really describe with words since everything is a flurry of color and sound and smell. The picture above is deceptively calm, but you can catch a glimpse of the uneven sidewalks crowded with motorbikes, the narrow buildings leaning up against each other, the wires in strange and hazardous clusters, mingling with the paper banners strung across the street (leftover from Tết, perhaps?), and the ever present fluttering flag of Vietnam.

What the photo doesn't show are the street vendors selling produce, meat, clothes, flowers, paper, shoes, food, and just about anything else you can think of on the sidewalks. Sometimes they are store fronts or restaurants that spill out onto the sidewalk with merchandise or, in the case of restaurants, with stools, tables, and usually the kitchen. Sometimes the sidewalk is the entirety of shop, with the shopkeeper squatting next to his or her merchandise, which has been laid out on the sidewalk, right next to the gutter. Sometimes the shops are mobile, carried on a bicycle or a bamboo pole over the shoulders of a woman in the quintessential conical farmer hat.

What the photo can't show is the ever-present cacophony of honking cars and motorbikes. It can't show the mouth-watering smell of noodle soups and grilled meat, or how that smell unfortunately mingles with the odor of sewage. It can't show the subtle taste of the clear broth of phở for breakfast or of the cold lagers (Bia Hơi--fresh beer) you can find at beer corner.

But until we get smell-o-vision and taste-tv, you'll have to settle with this photo and these words, which together serve as a snapshot of my impression of Hanoi.

Movin' to the country, gonna eat me a lot of . . . Hot Brown?

2011-02-25T02:02:00.000-05:00

I love San Diego. But it is expensive. Matt and I have talked about eventually moving somewhere with a lower cost of living, but it has always seemed like a far off possibility. We'd never really even seriously discussed where we would go.

Then Matt's employer offered him a position in Louisville, KY and we decided it would be a good opportunity to move onward. While I think I was hoping for something north of the cultural Mason-Dixon line, I am looking forward to this forced change. I have never lived anywhere but Southern California, so this will be an education of sorts for me. Plus, while Kentucky may seem like the sticks, Louisville seems like it'll be a pretty neat city to explore.

So that's my news! I'm going to be pretty busy with packing and prepping for this new adventure, but I'm going to try to make time to write about another sort of adventure--our recent trip to Vietnam and Cambodia:

Hanoi (photo by Matt)

PS The Hot Brown is an open-faced sandwich with origins in Louisville.

MIA

2011-02-04T22:20:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I know I've been missing in action lately and it doesn't look like I'll be able to post on any sort of a regular basis for a few months. Right now, all I can say is that big things are just around the corner and I'll say more when I can.

I should also mention that in addition to not posting lately, I have been lousy at reading the blogs I follow as well. I miss you all . . . But I'll be back!

Mood Music for 2010

2010-12-31T12:44:00.000-05:00

For a couple years I was in the habit of exchanging yearly soundtracks with a close friend. They acted as a score to our lives, but it was also often an exercise in cartharsis. But for the past two years, my life has been less emotionally tumultuous, and because of my living, working, and transportation arrangements, I have had less time for music, and therefore have missed a few soundtracks. This year was similar, but I refused to skip another year, so I threw something together. It's hard because I spent most of the year listening to a few albums over and over. As a result, there isn't much variety, so I kept it short.

Here is the track listing for 2010; I call it 12 Songs for 12 Months:

"Twilight Galaxy" - Metric
"Knotty Pine" - Dirty Projectors Featuring David Byrne
"Big Red Machine" - Justin Vernon & Aaron Dessner
"Tightrope" - Yeasayer
"Gentle Hour" - Yo La Tengo
"Changes" - Stars
"I Died So I Could Haunt You" - Stars
"Psychic City (Classixx Remix)" - Yacht
"Hysteric" - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
"Robots" - Flight of the Conchords
"Walking Down the Hill" - Travis
"King's Highway" - Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers

I thought about posting videos instead of a list but nearly none of these songs have official videos and anyway, even with only 12 songs this post would be too long for anyone to slog through if I embedded videos for all of them. However, I will mail a copy to anyone who wants one, just email me at mistymichael15@gmail.com.

Mood Music for the Holidays

2010-12-18T20:01:00.000-05:00

So my friend NJA wrote a post dedicated to Hanukkah related videos earlier this month (and even though Hanukkah is over I would recommend checking it out!) and yesterday my friend Rachel posted about her favorite holiday music, so I thought I would follow the trend. Some of mine are pretty cheesy, probably because I grew up listening to "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer" every year at my grandmother's house.

"Nutcracker Suite"

I will listen to pretty much any version of the Nutcracker Suite. This one, though not traditional, is very upbeat and festive.

"The Chipmunk Song"

Let's be real. I was a kid during the run of the second Chipmunks television show, so I ate up all their stuff. I particularly liked Theodore because he was just plain nice.

"Carol of the Bells"

A little more traditional here. I particularly like the more traditional versions of this one, which is why I picked this video instead of say, that of the Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

"Little Saint Nick"

I had this on cassette and loved it.

"Let It Snow"

As an adult, my love for the, uh . . . classier Christmas songs has grown.

"Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth"

It's not necessarily that this is a favorite, but how could I leave out this video? It's also kind of fun to check out the Will Ferrell & John C. Reilly parody.

And just for fun, "Hallelujah Chorus" performed by a flash mob . . .

Haircut!

2010-11-15T21:54:00.000-05:00

So, back in April I decided to let my hair grow for donation. It was already pretty long, I just needed a few extra inches so my stylist would have something to work with. After some research, I decided on Locks of Love. They specifically state on their website that they accept layered hair, which was definitely important. Anyway, after seven months, my hair was ready for me to make the cut.

Before

I was really looking forward to the change. However, after I made my appointment, I began to realize that I'll miss having long hair. Most of the time it's a hassle, but I'd been getting compliments on it recently and I've had long hair for most of my life, with the exception of a couple years right after high school. I was surprised I felt ambivalent, but I didn't change my mind. And I'm glad I didn't, because I think this is a really good cause. My only regret is that I couldn't do more (well, not without getting a pixie-cut), because the 10 inches I cut off will only make a chin-length wig if used at the crown. But hey, that's the length of my hair now and it looks pretty cute if I do say so myself!

After

Please forgive the mirror shots; Matt was out of town this weekend when I got it cut (yes, my guy left a long-haired lady and came back to a stranger with a bob). Anyway, I haven't had a chance to go to the post office and mail my hair, but they hard part is over. And it was easy!

October

2010-10-30T00:53:00.000-04:00

How did a whole month fly by without any posts? I have been keeping busy in other ways, some productive, some not so much. The month started with me finishing The Color Purple for Banned Books Week. You can check out my Goodreads review here. The rest of the month was dedicated to various activities including losing/recovering my camera, beer drinking, cake making, apple crisp baking, zoo visits, vaccinations, a position change at work, and reading the entire archive of my most recent addiction, Questionable Content. Here's some more stuff I that helped me pass the month:

New Belgium Brewing's Tour de Fat, with a bicycle parade, music, cabaret acts, beer, and plenty of silliness.

Fun with a fun-house style mirror.

Olive picking and curing. This was fun for me because we picked our olives at this hokey place where my mom worked when I was in middle school, and where she recently started working again. We hit some bumps in the curing process, but overall it was a lot of fun.

Ripe for the picking!

Rinsing the lye solution from the olives.

Making my Halloween costume. My friend is having a robot party so I am going as Vicky from the Eighties TV show Small Wonder. It's an obscure reference but I'm hoping someone recognizes it. I got the bright idea to sew the costume myself even though my only completed project to date is a set of kitschy, imprecisely sewn curtains for the kitchen. Additionally, I don't own a real sewing machine, instead, I have a $30 piece of plastic that I purchased at a drug store when I decided to teach myself to sew last summer. So yeah. it's been interesting.

Check it out, cats and kittens!

Cheap in every sense, but adorable!

Apple picking with Rachel Elizabeth and her family in Julian. It was my first trip to Julian and I had a really good time. Matt and I stopped at Alpine Beer Company's new pub on the way home, and had some extremely tasty beer.

At Raven Hill Orchard

Aaaaaand I actually still need to hem my dress and make my pinafore for the party tomorrow night, so that's why you're getting this post instead of something more substantial. But next month I'll try to post more frequently/for real. Hope you've had as good of a month as I did!

Banned Books Week

2010-09-26T18:09:00.000-04:00

Confession: I have actually never read Ulysses. Yes, I am a poser.

So, I recently (like, five minutes ago) discovered that this week is Banned Books Week! This is even more exciting than National Punctuation Day, which I missed celebrating on Friday. It is pretty astounding that people still try to get books banned. Books are an incredible source of knowledge, and I particularly love the way fiction can reveal so much about what it means to be human, in all its beautiful, terrible complexity. And the real shame is that the books that reveal the most are the ones that are the most honest, which also seems to land them on the banned and challenged book lists.

I try to understand that people who want to ban books are, in a twisted way, doing it because they care about children and young adults, but the whole idea is just disgusting and misguided, and sometimes even discriminatory. In general, the idea of restricting knowledge really gets my panties in a bunch, if you'll forgive the antiquated phrase. And when this happens, then I become somewhat irrational and unable to form coherent sentences. So I won't go on about it too much. Instead, I will focus on the positive, the freedom to read!

The American Library Association has compiled this list of the most challenged titles of 2009. While I am familiar with nearly all of the titles on the list, I haven't actually read a single one (no, not even Catcher in the Rye or The Color Purple, and not even Twilight). So this week, I am going to acknowledge Banned Books Week by going to the library and checking out one of the books on the list.

If the issue interests you, I recommend you do the same, or do one of the following:

Check out BBW website for a list of events that may be happening in your area.
If the books on the 2009 list don't tickle your fancy, here is another ALA list of banned/challenged books that also appear on somebody somewhere's list of the top 100 books of the 20th century. Of these, I can personally recommend The Great Gatsby, 1984, Of Mice and Men, Brave New World, Slaughterhouse Five, and Go Tell it on the Mountain, although I really need to get around to reading the others on that list as well.
Pop over to maybe genius and read what she has to say about attempts to get the novel Speak banned.
Read (or re-read) Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, which not only appears on the ALA's list of the top ten challenged books of 2008 (the first book is also on the 2007 list) but also features themes about knowledge and how it's accessibility is directly related to freedom. Also, the series happens to be a personal favorite of mine.
Get a more global perspective through this list of books banned by governments according to wikipedia.
Explore this totally sweet map featured on the BBW website:

View Book Bans and Challenges, 2007-2010 in a larger map

But most of all, celebrate your freedom to read!

Mood Music with the Yeah Yeah Yeahs

2010-09-12T20:00:00.000-04:00

I've taken over the filing duties at work. Yep, that is exactly as thrilling as it sounds. However, it does allow me a little quality time with my iPod. It's a pretty huge task, and to keep me in a zone, I've been listening to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs latest, It's Blitz, which I'm only now discovering more than a year after it was released. The whole album is great, and while my favorite song is currently the slightly slower "Hysteric," the opening track, "Zero," does a great job of getting me pumped about putting files on shelves. Woo-hoo!

Karen O makes me want to buy hi-top sneakers and wear red lipstick everyday. Also, shopping cart shenanigans? Awesome.

Thank you . . .

2010-09-10T23:20:00.000-04:00

Rachel

This is what friendship looks like, people.

Welcome to the second installment of my thank you series, in which I thank the people around me for increasing my life's awesomeness. This entry is dedicated to my dear friend Rachel. We started as coworkers at our university's on campus convenience store, where I "trained" her by pointing at the cash register and standing next to her while she used it on actual customers (there really was no better way at that job, it's not like we had a "practice" cash register we could use). After meeting, we bonded over our love for books, Buffy, and Batman, but our friendship has lasted because of her character. She's compassionate, intelligent, and she doesn't let gender roles define her as a person. Besides being an all around fun and reliable friend, I'd also like to thank Rachel for the following:

Inspiring me to start a blog. Rachel's blog, Delete the Adjectives, is great. Her posts are thoughtful and honest. She also writes about herself as well as bringing attention to issues that matter to her, such as gay rights and animal welfare. For Blogathon 2009 she raised money for Best Friends Animal Society, which is a non-profit with a huge no-kill sanctuary for animals. It's a pretty special organization and given that Rachel loves dogs and would probably adopt every homeless dog she saw if she could, it was natural that she'd champion their cause.
Not making me wear a heinous, $300 bridesmaid dress. 'Nuff said.
Lengthy, winding conversations, in which we can chat about pretty much any topic. In fact, our guys deserve some thanks on this too, because we ladies tend monopolize the discussion when we all hang out.
Playing video games with me even though I am terrible and can never win a racing game or play Guitar Hero without getting booed off stage.
Introducing me to the kitty-cat dance, which produces a guaranteed smile even on the lousiest of days:

My Name

2010-08-30T22:30:00.000-04:00

I get all sorts of reactions to my name. Mostly, people just want to know how I came to be named Michael. The questions have been strange to get used to, because growing up, I didn't actually use it.. When my grandparents learned that my mother named me, a girl, after my father, even though she was not expecting a boy, they decided they would not call me by my given name. Rather than use my middle name, they started calling me Misty. I have no idea where they got it, or who picked it. I probably should have asked my grandmother before she died. However it came to them, that is what I was called in all circumstances--excluding getting in trouble--for the first 14 years of my life. In fact, as a child, I hated when people learned my real name because it led to teasing.

Then I went to high school and, because I was terrified of the new situation in general but also specifically because I was in a new district and had no friends, unless a teacher asked if we'd like to be called something other than what appeared on their roster, I was too scared to speak up and asked to be called Misty. So in a few classes my freshman year (bio, PE, and French, where it was "Mee-shell" anyway), I went by Michael. Still, most people knew me as Misty.

At my community college, I largely didn't bother with the nickname, because so few instructors have an opportunity to address you by name anyway. If I met people, I still introduced myself as Misty, but there were a handful of classmates that called me Michael. On leaving for San Diego State University, I decided it was prudent to include the nickname on the documents submitted to the dorm, lest they accidentally place me in a room with a dude. As it was, when I got a letter indicating my roommate would be named Izzi, I wasn't assuaged of that concern (Izzi turned out to be a lovely girl). So my dorm-mates knew me as Misty, and that seemed fine, because that's how I was called by my family, by my boyfriend and his family, and by my oldest friends.

Then, during my first year at State, I met a woman in an interior design class who changed how I felt about my name. In an art class, names are actually relevant because of presentations and critiques, and I was using Michael. However, our first project was done in pairs and my partner, Monica, had been to my room in my dorm to work on the assignment, so she learned of my nickname and called me that. Our classmate, Joy, heard the nickname, and asked about it, explaining that she was "not comfortable" calling me Michael. This kind of irked me. Shouldn't it be about what I'm most comfortable with? Who is this near stranger to make choices about my name? I had never before had such a strong desire to go by my name, my real name, as I did after that conversation. I mentioned Joy's comment to Monica, and she seemed to agree with me, indicating she intended to call me Michael from then on.

The transition wasn't easy. As I mentioned, most of the people closest to me called me Misty, and to this day, my family, oldest friends, and former roommates still use the old nickname. However, I started introducing myself as Michael as much as possible. After breaking up with my ex, that dramatically reduced the number of people that use Misty. Now, most everyone calls me Michael. While my mother could hardly change her habits now, she did tell me she's glad I use Michael, since she chose the name.

Although I hated it as a child, I've grown quite fond of my name, although it sometimes feels like a bit of a burden because I get so many comments and questions. For my first two jobs, both as cashiers, I wore a name tag, which people inevitably assumed wasn't mine, even though my first name tag HAD MY PICTURE ON IT. People also frequently assumed name was pronounced Michelle, which is an honest mistake, and doesn't really bother me when people are reading it and not hearing it.

At my current job I talk to people on the phone and I developed the habit of saying, "Like the guys' name," because it seems to be the most concise thing to say. Those of us on the phone all have our little habits; for last names I know a "Glaze, like a donut," and a "Melrose, like the avenue," but because we only give our last names when asked, those don't come up as often. My spiel produces the occasional chuckle, but nearly always ends the discussion of my name and therefore saves time. This is because it confirms the listener heard me correctly while also confirming that I am not a man with an extremely feminine voice, which is none of their business but you'd be surprised at what people will say on the phone. On the occasions I skip the phrase, I've received such responses as this:

"Michael? Like, Michael? Like my son's name?" -Man on phone recently
*outright laughter* "You sound like a girl!" -airline representative in India (or where ever)
"Michael? You sound like a female." -some guy, more polite than the Indian guy but odd word choice
"Thanks for your help, Michelle." -innumerable clients (seriously, do you even listen?!)

And so, while I do like my name, I'm with Johnny Cash on this one, if I ever decide to procreate and produce a daughter, her name will be any damned thing but Michael!

Invaded!

2010-08-28T18:40:00.000-04:00

The Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego currently has an exhibit called Viva La Revolucion, which features the work of various street artists including such legends as the mysterious Banksy and the popular Shepard Fairey. In addition to the gallery space in the museum, MCASD also commissioned certain artists to create pieces on buildings around town. Matt and I have seen the exhibit, and we have now seen all of the commissioned pieces.

Shepard Fairey piece in Hillcrest.

Os Gemeos piece at Horton Plaza.

One of the artists involved, known as Invader because he creates tiled pieces inspired by the video game Space Invaders, was not content to merely complete his commissioned piece. Instead, he truly "invaded" San Diego with over twenty pieces around town. This is rather unsurprising given the nature of street art. Because they weren't commissioned, they were hard to find, but thanks to the internet and some persistence, Matt and I managed to find fifteen intact invaders.

Invasion in Chicano Park

A commissioned piece.

It was actually a fun adventure to look for them. A good excuse for a walk around downtown, if nothing else. Here is a map Matt created showing all of the invaders we found in San Diego and the ones we couldn't find or that were damaged before we got there. If you live in San Diego, be sure to keep a lookout for Invaders while you're around town. Or, if you live somewhere else, see if your city has been invaded by checking out Invader's website.

View Invaders in San Diego in a larger map

Pennsylvania Part 3: Confluence

2010-08-25T23:18:00.000-04:00

Matt and I spent Friday, August 6th through Monday, August 9th with 14 of his extended family members in Confluence, PA. A sign in the town bore the slogan, "Where mountains meet rivers." It's a quaint town situated on the Great Allegheny Passage, a bike trail connecting Cumberland, MD (which is connected to DC by the C & O Canal) with Pittsburgh. It's a beautiful area, although we did pass a beer distributor with a Confederate flag on the porch and a resident near where we stayed had a "He's not my president" sign. So, not a place I'd settle down in, but great for a weekend trip.

Our first stop on arriving in Confluence was Confluence Cyclery, where Matt and I rented a couple of hybrid bikes since we couldn't exactly bring ours from California. Then we headed to our accommodations at the Parker House, which Matt's mom had reserved in its entirety. There, I met Matt's cousins and their families, and Matt's aunt and her husband. It was a little overwhelming because there were several new people but everyone was very nice to me, which may seem like a trite thing to say but nice is really the right word here, and niceness is sometimes underrated. Also, the family had organized a birthday celebration for him (his birthday was a little more than a week prior) including two beautiful tarts made by his mom's husband, some poems, and a couple of photo albums. Even though the event was all about Matt, it illuminated the personalities of those involved for me.

The only thing better than their looks is their taste.

I am not an athlete but I did enjoy the bike rides we took. I rode over 20 miles (Matt rode about 50), which is probably not much for some people but it was a lot for me. The trail is a beautiful one, and reasonably easy as well. It's mostly shady glimpses and occasional good views of the surrounding rivers.

I didn't even need training wheels!

We also checked out two Frank Lloyd Wright houses in the area: Kentuck Knob and the legendary Fallingwater. Maybe it's because we went to Kentuck Knob first, but I enjoyed it more than its more famous predecessor. While Fallingwater is bigger and perhaps prettier, the experience felt more corporate. Additionally, Kentuck Knob has a sculpture garden, and we had a really fantastic tour guide there (Matt's cousin concisely described her as perky without being annoying).

This makes Fallingwater appear

deceptively quiet.

Our whole Pennsylvania trip was really fabulous but our stay in Confluence pleasantly punctuated our vacation.

Pennsylvania Part 2: Pittsburgh

2010-08-24T00:16:00.000-04:00

Continuing our the chronicles of our trip to Pennsylvania, after leaving the Poconos, we arrived back in Pittsburgh late Tuesday afternoon, after one slight mishap in which I got confused about East and West because THE OCEAN IS TOTALLY ON THE WRONG SIDE OVER THERE.

Anyway, we drove straight to the house of his mom and her husband, where we had a small snack before heading to the Mattress Factory on the North Side. The Mattress Factory is a museum that focuses on installation pieces. Personally, I am not as into Modern or contemporary art as I am into more traditional paintings and sculptures. However, I do really enjoy installation art, because it usually involves some level of interaction on the part of the viewer. The Mattress Factory had a lot of okay pieces and a lot of neat pieces. My favorites were all part of the permanent collection: the works of Yayoi Kusama, Greer Lankton, and James Turrell.

On our way to the Mattress Factory we also discovered Randyland, a collection of unique and colorful buildings on the corner of Jacksonia and Arch. It was a strange sight, so after our visit to the Mattress Factory we walked over to inspect the oddity. Every surface is painted in a bright color, and decorated with odds and ends that seem to be scavenged from all manner of sources. Curious, I looked for information about this eclectic corner online and found a Post-Gazette article that lead me to a Today show segment (which I'm only really linking to because it has good views of the building and uses Explosions in the Sky for some of the background music). Both describe the Randy behind it all, so if you're interested follow one of the links.

We needed to drop off the rental car, and Matt's brother Mike was kind enough to pick us up from the airport and join us for a trip the ballpark. I'm told by the Ruben boys that PNC Park is arguably the prettiest ballpark in the country, and while I have only been to three in my adult life (I went to a Dodger game once as a kid but was so bored I blocked it out), I can see that it really is a beautiful park. I was treated to a rain delay, which is so rare in San Diego that it felt like a fitting event to welcome me to town, so to round out this authentic Pittsburgh experience Matt and I purchased a Primanti Brothers capicola sandwich and shared it, standing over a trash can, huddled under a covered walkway with the rest of the crowd. The crowd was small, but the size was welcome given that there's only so many places to get out of the rain. We sipped beers and enjoyed the drizzle. The Pirates defeated the Reds that night, but since it got a late start and we hadn't actually had a proper dinner, we didn't stay for the whole game. Mike took us to the nearby Six Penn, where we had drinks in the bar and shared a few appetizers. Mike dropped us off at their mom's place, where we were staying.

Something you don't see much in San Diego.

Wednesday called for sleeping in because we were, after all, on vacation. We took a lengthy walk via Beechwood from our hosts' home near Point Breeze to Matt's old stomping ground in Squirrel Hill. We ducked into the library, bought a smiley cookie from Eat N' Park, and I saw a fraction of Frick Park, where Matt's mom Sue and her husband Peter picked us up for lunch. We ordered sandwiches at Kubideh Kitchen, the first and current incarnation of the Conflict Kitchen, an art project/take-out restaurant that features one menu item at a time inspired by the cuisine of a country the US is in some way in conflict with. The item/country in question changes every four months. We had a completely delicioius Iranian wrap style sandwich served in an informative wrapper, but by next month the kitchen will be serving an item from Afganistan. The intention is provoke thought, but they also happen to serve an extremely tasty sandwich of beef, basil, mint and onion wrapped in flat-bread. It may have been the best thing we ate this trip.

After lunch Matt borrowed the car, and we went to the somewhat newly reincarnated Penn Brewing. The trouble with travel, is that so much of what I want to do in any given city involves consumption. I do not have a huge appetite, but by sharing a single Kubideh sandwich Matt and I managed to save room for a shared bowl of saurkraut soup and a potato pancake each. We washed them down with a couple of beers and enjoyed the atmosphere of the place, which was nice although quiet since it was a weekday afternoon.

We then went for a walk around Carnegie Mellon University, and checked out the Carnegie Library before a thunderstorm interrupted what would have been a longer walk. We stopped by East End Brewing for some free(!) tasters and to fill Matt's mom's growler for our then upcoming weekend trip to the country. The East End employee was very friendly, their beers were good, and thanks to their Illustration Ale, we learned about the Toonseum, which I'll describe in a few paragraphs.

Because Diners, Drive-ins and Dives has featured a number of Pittsburgh establishments, we would have been remiss not to check one out. For dinner Wednesday we ate at Big Jim's in the Run. It was fun, about what I expected: large portions of decent food served by a waitress that calls you "hun."

Meatball sandwich at Big Jim's.

Thursday was our big day. We walked all around downtown, beginning with a farmer's market with free food sponsored by Toyota. Then we got some hot dogs from Franktuary (a hot dog joint in the basement of a church) and ate them at the August Wilson Center, where they were having a line dancing event on the patio. We also checked out the exhibit there, and saw some very nice photos by Charles "Teenie" Harris. Across from the Wilson Center is the Toonseum, a modest but totally awesome museum/gallery focused on cartoons of every variety, from animation and comic strips to comic books and graphic novels. Their current exhibit featured dogs, including Snoopy, Scooby, and many others.

The August Wilson Center

Cool statues at the building next to the Toonseum.

Then we crossed one of the many bridges to the North Side, where we climbed into the lap of the Mr. Rogers statue (Fred Rogers was born in Latrobe, essentially Pittsburgh, and when my boyfriend was a kid they attended the same church!), and then had beers at Rivertowne, where they had a handful of San Diego beers on tap, and oddly enough, none of them were Stone. Then we walked back to town and just meandered about until we eventually met up with the family for dinner at Yo Rita on the South Side. It was strange eating tacos in Pittsburgh, and they weren't "authentic" tacos, but they were seriously tasty. The folks the run the place are creative and clearly consider the season in developing their menu. I had the watermelon habenero gazpacho and a summer squash taco, with a blood orange margarita to drink. Even though I was pretty full, we ended up borrowing the car again to make sure I got my ice cream fix from Dave & Andy's. Out of the ice cream in options in Pittsburgh, I picked Dave & Andy's because it seems to be an institution. The ice cream was good, not great, but it was ice cream so of course I liked it.

I will totally be your neighbor.

And that's it for Pittsburgh. Friday, we had a lazy morning before departing on the next leg of our journey: Confluence, PA.

Pennsylvania Part 1: The Poconos

2010-08-15T23:53:00.000-04:00

My boyfriend Matt spent his childhood and adolescence in Pittsburgh, and his entire immediate family still lives in the state of Pennsylvania. My only visit to Pittsburgh was an ill-fated Christmas trip in 2008, when a series of flight delays reduced my stay to 36 hours in a cold, cold, city. I've been looking forward to making another visit, and this summer I had my opportunity. I didn't just see Pittsburgh, I saw other parts of the Keystone State, which I will chronicle in three parts. Here is the first!

On Saturday July 31st, Matt and I flew via Dallas to Pittsburgh, arriving late that night. We picked up our rental car and headed to Matt's mom's in Squirrel Hill, where she and her husband were kind enough to put us up for the night and feed us breakfast before our early start Sunday morning.

We drove across much of the state to arrive in Buck Hill Falls, PA in time for a late lunch with Matt's dad and his wife at their home, which is also where we stayed. After lunch, we headed out for a brief hike to the falls that give the community its name.

Buck Hill Falls is a private resort community and while it's pretty much in the middle of nowhere it's also pretty lively. Our hosts live right on the golf course and just a short distance from the pool and tennis courts. The hike to falls was not a long one, and yet, in spite of all these hallmarks of civilization being so close at hand, at the falls I felt completely enveloped in nature. It's really nice that they live so close to such a great and isolated view.

We followed our hike with a dip in the pool, then cleaned ourselves up for dinner. Before dinner, we stopped by the Buck Hill Falls Library for the opening of an art show featuring a local artist. The city it is not, but I admire their ambition. Then we headed to Forks, a restaurant not to be confused with the town in Washington, where we had a very nice dinner, followed by dessert at our accommodations.

The next morning I was treated to a rare experience for a Southern Californian, berry picking. It's blueberry season and while a sign at Paupack Blueberry Farm suggested their next batch would be ready around August 9th, there were plenty of blueberries that were ripe for the picking. Matt, his dad, and I spent about 40 minutes gentling tugging the little blue beauts into our palms and then rewarded ourselves with some delicious blueberry ice cream.

The literal fruits of our labor.

They had baby goats!

To be honest, I don't even really like blueberries that much, but I really enjoyed picking them and the ice cream, and the pie that Mary-Kate (Matt's dad's wife) made later, were really tasty.

We followed our picking with a trip to just about the only tourist attractions (other than nature) in the area. Neighboring Buck Hill Falls is Mountainhome, home to Callie's Pretzel Factory and Callie's Candy Kitchen. They're novel, that's for sure, and they put out some decent pretzels and candy. At the former Matt and I shared a soft pretzel and I invested in some bagged hard pretzels (one bag jalapeño, one bag garlic). At the latter, nostalgia prompted me to purchase a bag of mint buttons, which my grandmother kept in a crystal candy dish when I was a child.

Pretzel sticks in progress.

After the candy shop, we met up with Mary-Kate for lunch at a local deli. I was pretty impressed with my grilled mozzarella and roasted red pepper sandwich. We followed lunch with another hike and a dip in the pool. Then we traveled to Tannersville for beers and a dinner's worth of appetizers at Barley Creek Brewing.

This took quite a bit of bravery for me.

All in all, we spent a really great couple of days in the Poconos and enjoyed our quality time with our hosts. But if I was going to see Steel City, we had to hit the road. After a breakfast of blueberry pie (don't judge me!) we began our five-ish hour journey back to Pittsburgh. Our time there will be the subject of my next entry!

I'm in Pennsylvania - A Preview

2010-08-06T10:45:00.000-04:00

I've been in Pennsylvania since late Saturday night, and I won't be home until late Monday night. I expect I'll post about my adventures in the Keystone State, but for now, here's a funny song about Pennsylvania, set to the tune of Katy Perry's "California Gurls."

Geekery

2010-07-27T02:27:00.000-04:00

I'd like to begin with an apology to any of my Save Saturday Service correspondents. Summer time is busy time and I have written maybe two letters in the past two months. But I haven't forgotten about you, I swear! I'll be making a better effort to write more letters just as soon as I get back from my next trip.

I said I've been busy, and this past weekend was no exception. I spent the day Saturday at Comic-Con, and had a great time. I don't know if it shows much here, but there is a geek inside of me. I've been known to complain that the casting of superhero movies isn't true enough to the character (and also argue that the characters can and should evolve), contemplate the best episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and weigh in on the debate between the hotter Harrison Ford role: Han Solo or Indiana Jones. When a friend started a graphic novel book club, I was all over that. There are webcomics I read reliably. So when a friend offered the complimentary passes she earned for volunteering, I was pretty psyched to go!

I used to buy tickets, but it's not important enough to me to buy the tickets a year in advance, which you pretty much have to do now. I bought tickets last year, because I wanted my boyfriend to see what it was like since he'd never been. Even though it's not really his scene, it's easy to find this he's interested in because it has grown so much and encompasses so many things. Further, there is no better place on earth better for people watching. I haven't traveled much but I still feel confident in that statement.

For the uninitiated, there are two basic aspects to the convention. One is the exhibit hall, with booths of all kinds, including those of individual artists, comic book vendors, DC and Marvel, LEGO, various movie studios, book publishers . . . I could keep going but you get the idea. The other is "programming," which is a blanket term for panel discussions, movie & television sneak peeks, gaming, film festivals, and probably some other stuff I can't think of right now. I try to avoid the movie and TV stuff, which tend to be just absolute madness in terms of crowds (although I wouldn't say episodes like this are common), but I do like to attend the panels, which vary greatly in their topics.

But the Comic-Con experience goes beyond that. People dress up as their favorite super heroes, graphic novel protagonists, anime characters, and, of course, movie roles (to varying degrees of success). Downtown becomes incredibly lively as the whole city gears up for it. This year, the transit service changed the Trolley signs across from the convention center to Klingon. A group organized a zombie walk, which was fun to observe. Comic-Con is really a neat thing.

Highlights for me this year included: finally caving and buying a Jayne hat, getting a 3-D photo taken, purchasing a sketch from Ramona Fradon, seeing the Family Guy*, Cleveland Show*, Futurama, and Simpsons panels (especially the clips/cast readings of the Comic-Con inspired episodes), and meeting up with friends for drinks and the conclusion of the Zombie Walk. My description cannot do it justice, so without further ado, I'll give you a few photos. I didn't take many, and none show how crazy crowded it is, but here's a bit of my Comic-Con 2010 experience.

Klingon signage

An R2-D2 just rolling around.

At the convention center.

I'm ready!

An exhibitor display of "You-Know-Who"

My disappointment that this is not the Big Three

is mitigated by my appreciation for this Flash costume.

Futurama panel with Matt Groening.

The panelists are seen on the screen

and in the far background.

The hero of Canton . . .

Emma Frost (in her diamond form) with

a character I don't know and Ms. Marvel

Mystique

Batmobile on the street.

At Quality Social, preparing for the imminent

arrival of the zombies.

The Zombie Walk wraps up at Quality Social.

Even zombies get thirsty!

*Not actually a fan of the shows, but not opposed and attending the panel guaranteed us seats for the Groening panels.

Dumplings and Other Kitchen Adventures

2010-07-12T00:07:00.000-04:00

Lately Matt and I have been experimenting with filled pasta. A few weeks ago we made pierogi and this week we tried our hand at ravioli. For the pierogi, I did a little research and found this really helpful site. We didn't follow the recipe, but it had some good tips. Some pierogi we filled with potatoes and cheese, some with sauerkraut, and we even got really experimental and added jalapeños to a few (hey, we do live in San Diego).

After making the pierogi, I decided it would be fun to get a ravioli press to make more dumplings. For the ravioli, we followed a recipe from The Complete Book of Pasta and Noodles, which I gave him for Christmas with his pasta machine. We haven't actually cooked the ravioli yet, we are freezing them to cook sometime this week. The filling is meat and ricotta with basil, and we plan to serve the ravioli in a basic tomato sauce.

In addition to having fun with dumplings, a few weeks back I made a strawberry rhubarb crumble using an easy recipe from The English Kitchen that delivered great results! Also, Matt bought some darling flower-shaped egg molds, so he whipped up a cheery breakfast this morning.

On Independence Day

2010-07-04T19:17:00.000-04:00

I would not call myself a patriotic person. I don't even understand the phrase, "Proud to be an American." For me, pride is for accomplishments. Being an American takes no special effort on my part. I was just lucky enough to be born here, where I have a good quality of life and plenty of opportunity to excel. If I had to earn my citizenship, I would likely feel proud to call myself an American, but as it is, I just consider myself fortunate.

That said, I don't think patriotism is all bad. Patriotism doesn't have to be nationalism. It can be as simple as love for one's country. While I don't agree with, and am even disgusted by, the Fox News story and ensuing reader comments regarding Wonder Woman's recent costume change and what Fox News thinks it represents, I know that expressions of patriotism needn't be so idiotic. So I was surprised to realize how many people oppose the celebration of the Fourth of July. A friend posted the following quote of facebook, and it definitely got me thinking (as was his goal):

"What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer; a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sounds of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants, brass fronted impudence; your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are, to Him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy -- a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages.There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States, at this very hour." -Frederick Douglas (full text here)

It's a powerful statement, and the choice of this passage by my friend suggests that while much has changed since Douglas so skillfully strung these words together, we still have much cause for disgrace. While our history is marred with much oppression and bloodshed (including the obliteration of Native Americans, slavery, and Japanese internment camps, etc.) and our present is similarly blemished by much (including, but not limited to, our discrimination against immigrants and those with non-normative sexualities), that doesn't mean that we can't feel love for our country. Another friend shared a very different quotation on facebook. The words are William Faulkner's (who incidentally, was probably racist), and are taken from an essay on Mississippi. I do not know the source work, so I have quoted it exactly as my friend did, and make no claims regarding the accuracy of the text:

"Home again, his native land; he was born of it and his bones will sleep in it; loving it even while hating some of it. . . But most of all he hated the intolerance and injustice. . . But he loves it, it is his, remembering. . .Loving all of it even while he had to hate some of it because he knows now that you don't love because: you love despite; not for the virtues, but despite the faults."

This is true about love in general, but I really appreciated the sentiment as it relates to one's country. Seeing the two quotations side prompted me to think about this holiday more than I generally do, so I wanted to share the experience with others. Now that I've typed this, I'm going to go make some potato salad to share with good friends at a barbecue, where the subject of our nation is unlikely to come up at all.

Three Things

2010-06-25T00:54:00.000-04:00

Alli from Reasons to Smile tagged me in her My 3 Things post. The idea is to share three things about yourself under each of several categories, then "tag" three more people, in keeping with the theme of threes. It's a fun idea, but sadly, many of my readers are not bloggers, and some that do only blog on certain themes. So, I'm only going to tag ONE person, Rachel at Delete the Adjectives. And here are my three--er, twenty-seven things:

3 names I go by:

Michael
Misty (this is an old family nickname).
Gladys Pantsaroff.

3 places I have been:

Rocky Mountain National Park, CO
Seattle, WA
Baja California, Mexico

3 favorite drinks:

Arnold Palmer
Leinenkugel's Sunset Wheat
Milk

3 jobs I have had:

Cashier at SDSU's campus convenience store.
Cashier/bookseller at Borders Books.
Claims representative at an insurance company.

3 TV shows I watch:

The Office
House (only in reruns)
The Daily Show (if I stay up late enough)

3 places I would like to visit:

France, to see Winged Victory at the Louvre.
Scotland, because it has produced Travis, Irvine Welsh, and Shirley Manson.
Italy, for food and art.

3 places I have lived:

Riverside, CA
San Diego, CA
La Mesa, CA (practically San Diego)

3 favorite dishes:

Ice cream.
Soup, pretty much any kind.
Flan.

3 things I am looking forward to:

My trip to Pennsylvania in August.
Summer hours at the zoo (starting this Saturday!).
Taking more hikes.

"With bread and wine you can walk your road." -Spanish proverb

2010-06-22T03:27:00.000-04:00

Judging my life solely on my past few blog entries, it seems I do my share of traveling. This actually only reflects my life lately, and not as a whole, but I do hope the trend continues. My most recent trip was to Mexico, my first over night stay, and it was pretty much the most luxurious vacation I've ever had. This will be a long post, but I pretty much can't bring myself to leave anything out.

Matt and I spent two nights in Guadalupe Valley, Baja California's wine county. I'm actually a novice wine drinker; while I've seen Sideways and French Kiss my knowledge of wine and wine culture stops there. In hearing the names of wines, I haven't been good at distinguishing between reds and whites, unless the name includes "noir," or "blanc." Not so with my boyfriend, who isn't the wine snob that Miles (of Sideways) is but does enjoy tastings and employs the appropriate terminology in describing wine. Having been to Guadalupe Valley on numerous occasions, Matt appreciates the region because it is so close (around two hours from our home) and because it is tourist-friendly without being overrun with visitors. So this trip was designed to expose me to the joys of both Mexico and wine.

We left Friday afternoon and took Federal Highway 1D down to Ensenada. Because it's a toll road, it was actually quite a smooth and pleasant drive, although there are a few military checkpoints, and you get a great view of the Pacific.

Approaching Ensenada

In Ensenada, we had an early dinner at Muelle Tres, apparently run by chef Benito Molina and, like Molina's two other restaurants, much exalted by the Masa Assassin. As a port town, Ensenada is known for its seafood. Now, like Mexico and wine, seafood is something Matt is constantly trying to sell me on. I'm not a huge fan of fish. I like shrimp, crab, and calamari well enough, and I can go for a tuna sandwich now and then. While sushi leaves me tepid, I admit I really enjoy ceviche. But fish served as a fillet, or worse, all scaly and with the head intact, is not for me, and I don't dig clams or oysters. However, I try to be a good sport, and in my experience being adventurous about food can lead to some delightful discoveries. And my meal at Muelle Tres did not disappoint.

The restaurant offers casual dining and is right on the port; in the fact the name translates roughly to "Pier Three." We put ourselves completely in the hands of our waiter and consequently feasted on the "Pescado - Estilo Tartara" (ceviche), the Arroz de Mar (seafood and rice), and the mango mousse, the latter being a contender in the Best-Thing-I-Had-in-My-Mouth-This-Weekend competition. All were delicious, even the Arroz de Mar with its many chunks of mystery seafood. I even tried one of the oysters served with the rice.

From there we headed to our destination: the Villa de la Valle, a six bedroom boutique hotel featuring spectacular views of the valley, landscaping that feels both precise and natural, a serene atmosphere, a totally sweet swimming pool and hot tub, and warm, welcoming staff. Words cannot describe this place, and to be honest, pictures can't either, but I'll try:

Each of the rooms has a woman's name. Ours was Monica.

From our window.

The evening's botana and wine.

The bath products are made with lavender grown on site.

On arriving, we were greeted by the manager, Alejandro, who showed us to our room and offered each of us a complimentary glass of wine and botana (snack). We tried the house red and explored the grounds as the sun set. As the other guests were still dining when dusk arrived, we took advantage of having the hot tub to ourselves and finished our wine in warm, bubbly bliss. I had known that the digs would be fancy, but there was really no way I could be prepared for the experience. I went to sleep in awe of the total specialness of the both the villa and the valley.

We woke the next morning to the crows of a rooster, the valley still clouded in fog. There's a labyrinth at the villa, and after some tea we walked through it and then played a game of boules. I won, which warranted a picture, because I nearly never beat Matt at anything.

It's hard to tell, but this is me winning.

Breakfast was unbelievably delicious. First, there was a buffet of sorts with fruit, yogurt, and the villa's own homemade granola, as well as some small muffins and cookie-like scones. To drink: seedless raspberry juice. I'm pretty sure there's nothing more decadent. But that's not even breakfast. Next came eggs (from the villa, of course), bacon, beans, mushrooms, tortillas, and bread.

Raspberry juice: non-alcoholic beverage of the gods

The hearty breakfast was good, because our itinerary now called for us to fill our bellies with wine. With a little help from a charming and incredibly knowledgeable employee of the villa, Agnes, we devised a loose plan for our day. Our first stop was Mogor Badan, founded by a Swiss family. Another group from the villa was there for a tasting and we basically tagged along, which was nice because otherwise we would not have had an opportunity to visit the winery. Natalia, the proprietress, poured the samples of the two wines they offer, one white, one red. The white was a Chesselas (a varietal), and really nice--very crisp and different, even to my untrained palate. The red was also very good. Although I've been to several breweries, this was my first time in a wine cave, and it was pretty neat. There was also something wonderful about tasting wine with the person who made it. There was also a nice, very small little market with fresh cheese, vegetables, and spreads on the property. I bought some apricot preserves.

Before our trip, Matt made reservations for us at Adobe Guadalupe, one of his favorite wineries in the region. This winery is bigger, with more employees and more wine, and also serves as an inn. Unlike at Mogor Badan, our tasting was not hosted by the wine-maker. However, the woman who served us was very knowledgeable and passionate about the wines, and she even let us taste the new wine, still in the making, from one of the barrels. Not including the one that was unreleased, we tried six wines (one rose and five reds), all named for angels, and a mezcal, called Lucifer. Mezcal is far too strong for me, but I really liked all of their wines, and found the rose to be particularly refreshing on the warm June day, so we bought a bottle for that night, and we also purchased some olives. To Matt's delight, two of the Adobe Guadalupe wines are now available at two locations in San Diego, so I expect we'll be drinking more of it in the near future.

Baron Balche is a large winery located next to Adobe Guadalupe and because of its size, they are open for tastings without a reservation. While this was clearly a substantially larger operation, and was the only place we had to pay for a tasting, it was also the only place we had difficulty communicating in English. While none of their wines impressed me greatly, the young man that served us was very kind and friendly, although any conversation was a challenge given that we don't know the language.

Next, it was time for food. We tried to find a place recommended to us by the staff at the villa, but our map was no help, so we took the turn for Laja, where Matt had been before. Since his last visit, the restaurant opened an outdoor grill with a different menu, so we ate there, under a big beautiful tree. We shared gazpacho and bread and, after asking for a translation of just about everything on the menu, an order of ribs, which were served on a bed of spinach. Both were fantastic. It was nice because we were eating just across the parking lot from their garden, where many of their ingredients are grown. I picked the bones clean.

Afterwards, we decided to try to visit one more winery, and Matt managed to remember how to get to Tres Mujeres, a winery he'd visited during his last visit two years ago. I was pretty excited because we'd recently had the bottle that he purchased last time, and I really liked it. However, as we hadn't called ahead, we had no idea if anyone would be available for a tasting. Luckily, as we pulled up, one of the "three women" came out of the building (a home?) and asked if we wanted a tasting, we confirmed, and a moment later another of the women, Ivette, emerged and led us to an out of use cave, now their tasting room. She was a delightful person, and seemed to remember Matt from his last visit. The three women, Eva, Laura, and Ivette, make one wine each, all reds, and we sampled all three. They were each very good, but in the end we purchased Ivette's wine, a blend, and she labeled the bottle for us with a pen.

A photo of the grounds at Tres Mujeres from Matt's prior visit

We returned to the villa, full and happy, and cooled off with a swim in the pool, where we chatted with a few of the other guests--small talk mostly, but we also discussed the animals that call the property their home. This was actually a very special aspect of the villa, in my opinion. In addition to the birds that nest in the trees and under the tiles of the roof, and the chickens that provide eggs, there are a number of cats and dogs that have adopted the villa and their guests. Another guest explained that only one of the dogs, a black one we rarely saw, actually "belongs" there. However, they all have collars, and they all share the food that is put out for them, and they are all pretty well behaved. The presence of these animals eased our pining for our own cat (although not our guilt for leaving her for the weekend).

That evening we had another botana and tried the house white, then spent a while relaxing in our room before heading down for dinner. While breakfast and the afternoon botana are included in the price of the room, reservations are required for dinner at the villa (48 hours in advance) and there is an extra charge of $45 per person, not including wine. The villa's wine label is Vena Cava, and we bought a bottle of their Cabernet Sauvignon for dinner, and while the meal was pricey, I found the four course dinner, served by Alejandro, to be oh-so-worth it. We started with a ceviche-type dish: halibut in a sesame oil marinade on a bed of avocado and seaweed, topped with fruit and basil. Next we moved to a salad of greens, mango, and pumpkin seeds topped with duck, followed by ostrich in a red wine sauce and Mexican squash for the main course. Finally (and my mouth is watering just thinking about this), we finished with lavender creme brulee.

Evening botana

Lighting in the dining room

Drinking the Vena Cava Cabernet

Halibut

Salad with duck

Ostrich in red wine

Lavender Creme Brulee

The meal was as decadent as it sounds, and I really enjoyed it all, although the first and last course really stood out to me. The halibut was marinated so nicely, with the sesame seeds adding a nice crunch, balanced by the sweetness of the fruit and the richness of the avocado . . . such a wonderful medley of flavors. And the creme brulee! The perfectly crisp top, with its aroma reminiscent of a burning marshmallow, cracked under a gentle nudge from my spoon, revealing the smooth custard beneath. The lavender was just right, not so strong that it detracted from the richness of the dessert. Yes, the mango mouse has some fine competition indeed.

After killing the bottle purchased with dinner, we opened the rose we purchased at Adobe Guadalupe, although it turned out that was a little ambitious, as I was ready for bed shortly after. We shared the rose with the group that had the appointment at Mogor Badan, as a kind of thanks for letting us crash their tasting. I slept very well that night. Sunday, we devoured another delicious breakfast and then said goodbye to the villa, the wonderful staff, and then the valley itself, this time taking the free road, Federal Highway 3, through the hills, past a number of slightly more intimidating military check points, and to Tecate. In Tecate, we made a stop at El Mejor Pan de Tecate for some flan and pastries, because when they call themselves "the best," I'm pretty sure they're right.

Our haul for the weekend

(made smaller by California regulation for wine)

I don't know if anyone will actually suffer through this whole entry (perhaps I should have made a couple separate posts), but even though it was only a few days ago I've had fun reflecting on my trip as I write. It was an incredible experience, and while we'll have to tighten our purse strings for while after this splurge, I am really glad we did it. If anyone is still reading and is thinking of visiting Mexico, I highly recommend you consider Guadalupe Valley.

Mood Music with Dark was the Night

2010-06-11T02:06:00.000-04:00

Music has a glorious ability to enhance or transform our mood. We all have those songs that make us feel happy, sad, lost, thoughtful, pumped, or impassioned in some way. Some bright songs will pick us up in spite of an otherwise sour mood (although admittedly, some depressions are so deep that even the liveliest, cheeriest of tunes becomes a cruel mockery of our unhappiness). And some bad moods call for music that will bring catharsis; raging guitars inspire a burst of angry energy that can beat out negativity, sad songs let one embrace a loss. I like to listen to Tori Amos's Little Earthquakes for a good cry that is guaranteed to bring me to the bottom of a slump so I can climb out again. Music has been an incredible crutch for me in my life, and I know so many people feel the same way.

I've been fortunate to call myself relatively happy for a while now, and consequently I have felt a little less affected by the music I listen to. This means that to some extent I have been less able to attach the songs I've discovered lately with my experiences. However, this doesn't mean I don't still enjoy music immensely, and I continue to be swayed by the tunes in my life. Currently I cannot stop listening to a compilation called Dark Was the Night, a 2009 charity album that benefits HIV and AIDS by raising awareness and funds for relief. Picking a single favorite of the two disc set is, without exaggeration, impossible for me to do. I could probably narrow it down to six or seven if pressed, and the list might vary depending on when I am asked.

I selected the following tracks for inclusion here because I feel they foster a certain pensiveness. On Tuesday this week, I took the bus to and from work (the bf works from home on Tuesdays), and there is something about riding in a vehicle (or several) for over an hour without speaking to others that makes me feel very reflective. These songs enhanced that feeling.

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Again, while I can't choose a favorite, I would say the spotlight here is on Yo La Tengo's "Gentle Hour," a song that makes me feel a several things, some seemingly incongruent with others and all somewhat difficult to define, including an intense yearning--an excitement that is hopeful but almost melancholy. More potent though, is the feeling of contentedness I get when I listen to the song. It makes me feel so happy that I wouldn't change a single thing in my world, giving me a such a sheer joy for life that I even appreciate the sensory experience of a bus ride and all the noise and odor and jostling that goes with it.

I am so glad to live in an age in which we not only have recorded music, but portable music as well. I'm sure traveling minstrels were grand, and I still say there's nothing like hearing music live, but I consider the library of music available to us a great blessing.

Photos of The City

2010-06-01T00:08:00.000-04:00

This week I took my first real trip to San Francisco. I've been to the city twice before, but only for a day trip each time while in the bay area for other reasons (weddings, both times). This trip was a spontaneous one; some friends are there for a couple weeks and offered us a place to stay, so last weekend, while I was in Washington, Matt arranged our flights after we decided this opportunity was too good to pass up.

Each time I've been to San Francisco, I've read one of Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City books, although they are so enjoyable that I don't wait for trips to read them, so this time I started the final tale, Michael Tolliver Lives. This trip I didn't find much time for reading, but I'm about halfway through, and already mourning the end of the series.

I wasn't very good about taking photos this weekend, but here are a few:

China Town

I think this building is so pretty.

Walking across Castro Street

(Photo taken by Matt)

A plaque at the location of

Milk's Castro Camera

Spectacular view of the city during a walking tour

with San Francisco City Guides

Bi-Rite Creamery - worth the wait!

The salted caramel is incredibly tasty.

I love my wheat beers.

(Photo by Matt)

I've had a great couple of weeks but it's nice to be home, petting the Snoop and relaxing. Next month: Mexcico!

Brief Travel Journal

2010-05-28T22:03:00.000-04:00

Whew. It feels like I've just returned from visiting my friend NJA in Washington and tomorrow I leave for San Fransisco, where Matt and I will spend the weekend. I don't have much time, but I wanted to post a quick report, mostly in photos, about my adventures in Washington.

Thursday, May 20, 2010
Burgers for lunch, Tacoma Art Museum, Museum of Glass, and The Red Hot for dinner.

The Bridge of Glass

Outside the Museum of Glass

The Ruston Ragin' Cajun at Red Hot

Friday, May 21, 2010

Sage's Brunch House, shopping in downtown Olympia, Tumwater Falls, and dinner made by NJA.

Breakfast at Sage's

Trail near Tumwater Falls

Turkey burgers on challah, asparagus,

sweet potato fries, and limeade

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Hike through the Hoh Rainforest around Lake Quinault, and dinner at Iron Rabbit.

On the trail

Lake Quinault

French Dip at Iron Rabbit

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Padres-Mariners game at Safeco Field, beer and pizza for dinner.

At the ballpark. Go Padres!

Brewery City Pizza and Fat Tire at NJA's

Monday, May 24, 2010

Space Needle, the Experience Music Project/Science Fiction Museum, Pike Place, and Underground Tour.

Space Needle

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

After a night at my former boss's place in Seahurst, it was time to return home.

View of the Sound from the guest room

Traveling

2010-05-23T00:45:00.000-04:00

I'm in Washington state! Specifically, I'm staying with a dear friend in Tumwater, which is near Olympia, the capital. We wrote a post together on her blog, Vinegar upon Nitre. It features some awesome music videos. Check it out!

Hair Part II

2010-05-15T15:53:00.000-04:00

I almost forgot to share this!

When I was doing research about donating my hair, I learned about Matter of Trust, a non-profit that seems to do a variety of things, including collecting hair clippings from salons and pet groomers to create mats to clean up oil spills.

I thought it was pretty cool and decided to bring it up to my stylist next time I went in for a trim. Then last month as I was reading about the BP oil spill, and decided not to wait. So I composed an email to my salon, telling them about the program. I received a response the same day, thanking me for my input and stating they would be starting donations the following week! I think the salon owners may already have known about the organization, and to be honest I'm not sure which makes me more happy, the idea that I may have helped or the idea that my salon is just that awesome.

Thank You . . .

2010-05-09T13:23:00.000-04:00

So, this is the first installment of my Thank You Series, in which I thank the people around me for increasing my life's awesomeness. Given that today is Mother's Day, I thought I'd start with my mom.

My mom and me after I received by Bachelor's.

Thank you, Mom:

For always fostering my imagination. Some parents subscribe to the Thomas Gradgrind school of childrearing, all fact and no fancy, but fortunately for me, my mother wasn't one of those. Whether it was orchestrating a wedding between Cuddles, my stuffed bear, and Bunny, my stuffed . . . well, bunny, or describing the fairy village that existed under a bush in our yard, she always indulged my storytelling.
For making me try a bite of everything on my plate. The meals we ate growing up were the antithesis of adventurous, but as a child I was so picky that even our very middle-American diet was too wild for me. I didn't even like sauce on my spaghetti noodles. However, my mom made me at least try a bite of everything, and as I grew older and discovered new foods, I was game to appreciate this rule, because I have consequently discovered a whole world of delicious edibles.
For introducing me to Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Some people think television corrodes family relationship, but watching Buffy with my mom was a bonding experience. My mother likes sci-fi, horror, and fantasy, so she was into the show immediately. I was more skeptical, but I started watching it with her and became hooked. It was a weekly date, and after I moved away to college we were still following the spin-off Angel so I would call her during the commercials to discuss the show's events.
For your accepting attitude. While it wasn't always the case, I can honestly say I feel comfortable discussing just about anything with my mom. I know she will always accept me and my decisions and I enjoy our candid conversations.

So thanks!

My mom at 17 years old.

Save Saturday Service - Update

2010-05-02T21:21:00.000-04:00

Thanks in part to Rachel's plug of my mail project, I've had quite a few volunteer recipients. Initially, only existing friends asked for letters, but now the number of strangers (or potential friends, if you will) has surpassed the number of participants I know personally. Additionally, I have now sent to four states (including California) and two (soon to be three when I write my next letter) countries other than the United States, and I've received responses from three of the letters I've written.

Since my original post, I have also been pleased to discover that I'm not the only one doing this sort of thing, and a great number of bloggers have hosted mail swaps, or offered to send postcards or letters, or posted entries about the joy of receiving mail the old fashioned way. And Annie at Snail Mail Lover has a whole blog dedicated to all things related to letter writing.

I'm having a wonderful time writing the letters and plan to continue the project as long as people are interested. So if you want me to send you something by post just send your address (formatted according to your country's guidelines) to mistymichael15@gmail.com.

Mortimer Blooms

2010-04-30T02:00:00.000-04:00

Meet Mortimer, Matt's cactus.

This is not a grilled cheese sandwich!

2010-04-26T21:31:00.000-04:00

Okay Carl's Jr, I am really sick of your advertising. First, it was the slogan, "If it doesn't get all over the place, it doesn't belong in your face," which you weirdly juxtaposed with busty models eating your sloppy sandwiches (Weird because if the viewer applies the same slogan to the model instead of the burger it's be just . . . gross). Next, you moved away from the objectification of women and instead lampooned men, all of whom are apparently too stupid to prepare any sort of meal for themselves. This is actually rampant in advertising; it's not okay to make fun of women, but it's okay to make men seem too dumb to tie their shoes, let alone operate a blender. Then you bragged about your obscene portion sizes, perhaps to compensate for your prices, because I'm guessing your Six Dollar Burger actually is around six dollars. Now, you have resorted to making shit up. In the commercial below, you are calling a bacon cheeseburger a grilled cheese sandwich.

If the dude in the commercial wanted a bacon cheeseburger, he would have ordered one. But he wanted a grilled cheese sandwich. Which is why he didn't order a burger like the rest of his friends. I will consent that if you add tomato, or maybe even bacon, to a grilled cheese sandwich, it's probably okay to call it a grilled cheese. But when you add a hamburger patty you move very clearly into the "burger" category and no amount of advertising or delusion will change that. So cut it out.

Busy Bee

2010-04-25T21:00:00.000-04:00

Whew. It's been a busy couple of weeks. It's been fun for me, but bad for my blog, as I haven't had much time to be pensive. Here's a recap of my recent activities. I'll try to keep it interesting, but I must admit this post is primarily self-absorbed.

During the week of the 11th, Matt's step-brother, Mike, was vacationing in San Diego with his wife and kids, so we hung out with them one night and babysat the kids another. They have a five year old girl and a three year old boy, and they say, if you'll forgive the cliche, the darnedest things. The week produced such gems as, "I think I'll draw a nocturnal, like a skunk," and "I'm three so I get privacy."

That weekend, Matt's mom, Sue, and her husband, Peter (Mike's dad), came to visit. Before Mike and his family left, we all had breakfast with the parents at a great Salvadoran place called El Salvadoreno. It's pretty much one of my favorite places in town. Their pupusas are great but lately I've been into the plantain stuffed with beef:

The rest of the day was spent with Matt's mom and Peter. We went for a walk in Torrey Pines, then we went to see an exhibit at the Lux Art Institute in Encinitas.

Torrey Pines

That evening, we took Sue and Peter to Lucha Libre, a local taco shop with a Mexican wrestling theme (hence the name). We chose this establishment over others partly because it's very unique and not something you can get anywhere else, but mostly because Matt and I have been wanting to sit at their "Champion's Booth" for a while now. Basically, in a joint where everyone else is ordering at the counter and being served in take-out containers, those at the Champion's Booth get wait service and food served on gold plates. The booth requires reservations, so Matt made them for us. We didn't tell his mom and Peter about the place, wanting to surprise them, which in retrospect may have been a little cruel of us, because we told them we had reservation which I think led them to believe it was a fancier restaurant. They both showed up in nice clothes looking well coiffed. However, they were very good sports about it, and even donned some wresting masks with us:

Sunday we started with a nice hike on Black Mountain led by a group called the Canyoneers. Afterward we went to the Hillcrest Farmer's Market (the one good idea I had that weekend, Matt came up with everything else). For dinner, Matt made spinach pasta, although we all helped crank out the noodles:

Our last outing with Peter and Sue was on Monday, when we dined at Cantina Mayahuel. Overall, I really enjoyed spending all that time with them because this is the first time they've been in town since Matt and I started dating. I've met them before, but never on my own turf.

Their departure did not result in much restfulness on our parts. Thursday we hung out with friends and Friday my old roommate and her boyfriend were in town so we all had dinner at the SoHo Restaurant and Lounge.

Yesterday we went to Chicano Park Day. Chicano Park is located beneath the Coronado Bridge, and it has a ton of great murals (and I am picky about my murals, I prefer them conceptual, landscapes can be so tacky). The festival they have there each April hosts performers of music and traditional dance, delicious food, and an excellent car show. Although many of the cars feature misogynistic artwork, I still really appreciate the skill they display.

(The woman on the other side of the hood was topless.)

We couldn't stay at Chicano Park for long because we had to drive up to Riverside for the wedding of my high school best friend. I hadn't seen her since I was 18, and I was around for the beginnings of her relationship with the great guy that is now her husband. It was a long drive and Matt and I were exhausted but it was really great to see her again.

Today Matt and I met up with his friend Ron at the Roots Festival, which is a free street fair/music festival that takes place in our neighborhood. In the past the festival has been more oriented on folk and local music, but it seems to be getting more pop-y (much to Matt's dismay). We checked out a group called The Reflectacles, listened to a few songs by The Watson Twins (perhaps most famous for the album perform they did with Jenny Lewis, of Rilo Kiley fame), and watched Sara Watkins play the fiddle. In between we ate polish sausages and ice cream, and laughed at all the weird vendors they brought in this year as part of some weird holistic health thing.

Overall, I've had a really great, really tiring couple of weekends. Incredibly interesting for me, although probably less interesting as a post. Next time, I'll be sure to post something that sounds less like a school report titled "What-I-Did-On-My-Summer-Vacation."

This is my scary face . . .

2010-04-17T23:47:00.000-04:00

I plan to write a longer post later this week, including additional photos of our activities with the out-of-towners, but here is a preview:

Hair

2010-04-14T22:12:00.000-04:00

I've decided to donate my hair, but before I can, I need to spend a few months growing more of it. It is currently at armpit length. I've been itching to lose some inches; it's heavy and I don't do anything with it. However, I think I'm not likely to let it grow this long again, so if I'm ever going to donate my hair, now is the time. In order to for me to have enough hair to donate and still have a style I like, I need to grow about three more inches, which should take about six months. I will need a bit of patience, so I'm posting about it here. This way, my commitment feels official and I will be less likely to change my mind.

I haven't chosen the recipient of my donation, but I am leaning toward Locks of Love. Based on my research, I feel they will make the best use of my hair. This is specifically because I have some layers and their website specifically indicates that's okay, because they sell the shorter hair to offset their costs. I have actually learned a bit in researching the different organizations, and I've made a chart for comparison of the different organizations (below). I was particularly wowed by Matter of Trust, which uses donated hair in a completely unexpected way.

Program	Who benefits?	Requirements	Link to website
Pantene Beautiful Lengths	American Cancer Society	Min Length: 8 inches No bleach, permanent dye, or chemical treatment, no more than 5% grey	http://tiny.cc/lxpr4
Wigs For Kids/ Childhood Leukemia Found-ation	Children under 18 with hair loss due to burns, chemo/ radiation alopecia, or other medical reason	Min Length: 12 inches Hair cannot be permed, color-treated, or highlighted	http://tiny.cc/l6u0x
Locks of Love	Financially disadvantaged children in the US and Canada under age 21 suffering from long-term medical hair loss from any diagnosis.	Min Length: 10 inches Colored or permed okay but no bleach, layered hair okay if longest is 10 inches	http://tiny.cc/kj25u
Children with Hair Loss	Children with any form of medically related hair loss	Min Length: 8 inches Non-chemically treated preferred but any hair accepted	http://tiny.cc/ydtfe
Matter of Trust	The environment: used to clean up oil spills	Min length: none Any type of hair from the head is okay	http://tiny.cc/puank

This week has been busy because Matt has relations in town, but we have a fun weekend ahead so hopefully that will just provide more material for blogging!

Library Fashion

2010-04-03T03:39:00.000-04:00

You know how sometimes when your attention is called to something you start noticing references to that something everywhere? Like someone tells you about a band and then you notice it featured on NPR or something? Well, I recently started following The Indie Handmade Show and stumbled upon an older entry featuring a polyvore look called "I love my books." This was interesting for two reasons.

First, Matt recently told me about polyvore, which is an art/fashion site where you use images to create different looks. I toyed around with it for a bit when he mentioned it to me a couple of weeks ago, but I wasn't immediately captivated by it.

Secondly, back in February a friend posted a facebook link to Archival Allure, a fashion blog of sorts that features style for "information professionals." My own wardrobe contains nearly no vintage items (I have a few scarves and gloves that were my grandmother's), but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate the occasional cardigan or cameo. In my opinion, the creators of Archival Allure are incredibly classy and hip, so I've found it a fun site to peruse.

So you see, when I saw the the polyvore book look, it was one of those weird things and it inspired me. So here's my own library look, probably a little cliché with the pencil skirt and Victorian top, but at least it's not all grey (which was the complaint of the friend that linked me to Archival Allure).

library look by Miss Michael featuring Manoush tops

Spring Has Sprung!

2010-03-28T14:28:00.000-04:00

Which in Southern California, means summer is upon us, or might as well be. And that means its time for floppy sun hat!

Sweet Saturday

2010-03-27T18:59:00.000-04:00

After a long week, I was really, really glad to be able to sleep in today. It was nice to just lie in bed, snuggling with Matt and the cat, and stare our the window at the beautiful San Diego day unfolding . . .

When we finally dragged ourselves out of bed, the mail had been delivered, including some packages I ordered from Etsy. One was a gift for someone else, but I couldn't resist getting these adorable cards for myself. I discovered the seller after reading a CityBeat article about local Etsy shops.

Cards by SparklePaw

Matt is spending tonight in LA with a buddy, but before he left we went to the zoo. It was . . . a zoo. I mean really packed. I know the weather is San Diego is pretty much always nice, but when it starts to warm up, you really see the city come alive. Because we got a late start, we parked on the street instead of circling the lot, and there was even a small line to get in. We didn't stay for long, but while we were there we saw the Malayan tigers being fed, the otters snuggling in the shade, and checked out the remodeled polar bear exhibit. It was so crowded, I didn't actually take any photos today, but here's an older one I took from the Skyfari, which we took today for a quick exit:

We stopped by the grocery store on the way home, where the butcher told me he could sell me a 10 pound bag of chicken leg quarters for $4.90. It wasn't butchered at the market, which is a downside, but it was cheap. So I took it and now I'm making chicken stock. It doesn't look like much yet, but believe me, this is going to be some pure, golden deliciousness:

Now, I'm just relaxing: drinking some Arnold Palmer and listening to Matt & Kim while sitting on the couch next to the cat, who is also relaxing, unsurprisingly.

Orange County Adventure

2010-03-21T02:13:00.000-04:00

Today I hung out with my friends Justin and Chris. They picked me up in the afternoon and I said, "Where are we going?" And they said, "We don't know." And then suddenly, we were on the road driving to Orange County. The drive was long-ish but the music and company were good.

We went to a Fry's so Justin could look at music and Chris could look at video games and Chris warned me that I was about to enter the tackiest Fry's ever. I thought he meant that it was dirty and filled with people you'd expect to see at Wal-Mart, but what he actually meant was that the place is looked like a cheap, Roman-themed movie set. There were fake statues and columns everywhere, it was seriously odd.

Next we went to a Guitar World, where I had the odd pleasure of taking my GoGirl on its virgin voyage. The bathroom was so gross I decided to use the "feminine urination device" that I received in my stocking at Christmas to avoid contact with the toilet seat. It's seriously awesome and it makes me want to write my name in snow.

Then at Second Spin I purchased three used CDs at very reasonable prices. I'm finally checking out The Dresden Dolls and I also found an Okkervil River album. Yay, new music!

We concluded our field trip with dinner at Mi Casa, where the cheese comes with a side of taco, beans, and rice.

I had a super fun day and now I'm home snuggling with the cat. My life is pretty good.

"Like Dolphins Can Swim"

2010-03-12T00:51:00.000-05:00

Matt and I just watched the documentary, The Cove, which recently won the Academy Award for Best Documentary Film. He's generally more of a documentary fan than I am, and this was his pick. That did not stop me from being profoundly affected by it.

I expected the film to focus on the capture and captivity of dolphins for marine mammal parks. It touches on that, but it's mostly about the slaughter of the dolphins that aren't selected for entertainment purposes. Most of the film is centered on the industry in Taiji, Japan, and the practices there are pretty horrific. I had no idea that dolphins were intentionally captured to be killed. Apparently, the fishermen sell the meat.

As a meat eater, I was careful not to let my moral outrage erupt too quickly while watching the movie. Just because I wouldn't eat dolphin doesn't mean I have the moral high ground, because I eat cow and pig and chicken and occasionally sheep. I thought maybe it was just a cultural thing. As one might expect, the film illustrates the intelligence of dolphins as a point against their utilization as food. But the film also reveals that intentional consumption of dolphin meat isn't a widespread practice in Japan. Most of the time it's sold labeled as something else. Further, the film points out that dolphin meat isn't even a healthy choice due to its high levels of mercury. It didn't take long before I agreed that eating dolphin meat, if not categorically wrong, is at least a bad decision.

So basically, this movie did exactly what a documentary should; it made me aware of something I hadn't been before. What surprised me though, was how suspenseful it was. The fishing/whaling industry in Taiji is incredibly secretive about their practices, and the filmmakers had to put themselves in peril to get the footage of the actual slaughter. I would say it was worth it. The scenes of the dolphins being killed are almost beyond description. The water was literally blood red, and many of the dolphins could be seen swimming after being wounded. Matt was even tempted to fast-forward past the graphic part. The disturbing nature of these images lends power to the film, the power to provoke thought, and hopefully action, in turn.

In addition to providing information and nail-biting moments, the film includes a brief but compelling personal narrative of Ric O'Barry. O'Barry is the trainer behind the 1960's television show Flipper and near the beginning of The Cove he confesses he feels partially responsible for the popularity of dolphins as attractions at marine parks. This casts his current level of activism, which involves numerous arrests, in a rather interesting and even inspiring light. His story would be a fantastic work of fiction and as truth it's even more fascinating.

I will conclude by saying that I highly recommend The Cove, and I also recommend checking out their Take Action website. I don't usually go out of my way to promote causes, but such a pointless act of cruelty really is worthy of attention. Or maybe it was just the strangely appropriate and oh-so-inspiring use of Bowie's "Heroes" at the close of the film that drove me to write this.

Save Saturday Service!

2010-03-06T12:14:00.000-05:00

The United States Post Office is asking congress for permission to cut Saturday delivery. Now this doesn't actually bother me that much as long as they keep the offices open on Saturday (which I believe is the plan). However, I have been thinking about how very nice it is to receive actual correspondence by mail. Maybe it's because I'm currently reading Jane Austen, but I feel there is a certain romance to the hand-written (or hand printed) word and sometimes I wish I wrote more letters and cards. So I'm going to. I know sending a few letters won't actually do enough to keep the USPS delivering on Saturday, but it's still inspiration enough for me (plus, the alliteration in "save Saturday service" is nice, no?).

Here's the deal: send me your address by email and I'll send you written correspondence by mail. I'm not promising extraordinary prose or even a lengthy letter (it may be a note or a postcard) but you will get something.

Comical Catalog

2010-03-05T22:27:00.000-05:00

So, I ordered my nephew an education toy called Snap Circuits Jr for Christmas. It uses units that snap together to create a closed circuit and teach basic concepts of electricity. I ordered it through Amazon Marketplace from a company called American Science & Surplus. Yesterday, I received their catalog by mail.

And it is the best catalog I have ever seen.

Seriously, this thing is so odd and funny, I have to share some of their products. It's not just the products they sell, it's also their sense of humor. Whoever writes copy for them must really have a good time. Matt and I were reading it aloud together.

At first glance, their wares are exactly what you'd expect: microscopes, rock polishing kits, those novelty plasma globes, mugs with the periodic table on them, etc. It even makes sense that they're selling ballpoint pens in bulk (after all "surplus" in their name). But then, as you peruse the catalog, some things start to stand out. Like this little gem in the "Adult & Kid Toys" section, which was the first thing that told me this is not your average catalog:

"Squirrel Briefs: For squirrelly lawyers? No, that would be stupid." But underpants for squirrels totally makes sense, apparently. How exactly is that a toy? And what's more, what company is out there manufacturing squirrel panties?

My next find was in the Office Supplies section. The item is way less weird but the delivery is great:

"Illegal Pads: On account of legal pads are 8-1/3" x 14" and these are your basic 8-1/2" x 11"." Like I said, this guy (or gal) is definitely having fun.

This lamp falls under the "Military Surplus" Category:

The MASH reference is great. I also like the idea that someone might be into "bunker themed decorating."

These are a little macabre, but I kind of appreciate them:

The title is incredibly punny, and I appreciate that they managed to work in the word "obfuscation" in the item description.

I'm not sure which made me laugh more, the rodent unmentionables or this stuffed horse's head:

As soon as I saw it, I thought, "Please reference The Godfather." And they did. The entry is incredibly absurd and the (potential) buyer is again left wondering why this item even exists. Further, like the squirrel briefs, this is also categorized as "Adult & Kid Toys." It seems pretty twisted to give a kid a stuffed horse's head instead of a stuffed horse. "No Daddy, I wanted the whole pony." Tears ensue.

Is it weird that I want to order from them again just so they'll keep me on the mailing list?

Creating a Beautiful Day

2010-02-26T21:52:00.000-05:00

One of the interesting (relatively speaking) features of my job is hearing all the different sorts of things people record for their outgoing message on their answering machine. I've heard some interesting things, sometimes in content and sometimes in tone. One thing many people say is, "Have a blessed day." Today, I left a message for a client whose recorded voice instructs the caller, "Create a beautiful day for yourself." When she returned my call, she was a pleasure to talk to and called me "Miss Michael" several times. I would venture that she's nice to talk to because she practices having a good attitude about things.

I'm a little ambivalent about the idea of thinking positively. On one hand, I complain a lot. My boyfriend thinks I'm happy when I complain and while I'm not sure that's true, I admit I complain frequently. I knew a girl that was planning to go for a month without complaining because she thought it would change her life. That's just the sort of hokey crap that turns me off. (As a side note, I never got the follow-up story from her so I don't know if she succeeded). This person also believed in the law of attraction, and I just can't believe in that sort of thing, personally. I don't believe in the power of prayer or that the universe will grant a person what he or she wants just because of his or her thoughts. Actions matter. In my opinion, the concept is completely ludicrous and I'm always surprised when otherwise logical people live by it. This is why I've been wanting to read Barbara Ehrenreich's Bright-Sided ever since I saw her promoting the book on The Daily Show. From what I've seen and read, in the book she points out that thinking positively can lead to delusion and examines its effects on an individual and national level.

While I don't live by the idea that thoughts have the power to change your life, I do believe in making the best of a situation. Despite my complaining, I try to enjoy my life. I think the advantage of thinking positively is much more direct than the "power of attraction" suggests. On a basic level, if one goes into a situation with a good attitude, the pleasantries of the situation will be more evident. On the other hand, if one goes into a situation with a bad attitude, one will find things to be unhappy about. I know this from personal experience because I've definitely been guilty of it at various times in my life (I'm looking at you, teenage-Michael). A while back, I went through a period of depression, and it felt like even when I tried to be happy I couldn't. A friend told me I needed to fix my attitude, and while part of me resented the idea, he had a point. There's a Rilo Kiley song called "The Good That Won't Come Out" with the line, "You say I choose sadness/that it never once has chosen me/maybe you're right." This song was particularly meaningful for me during that period.

I have experienced many life changes since that period in my life: I have a better job, a great boyfriend, and I live in a neighborhood more suited to my lifestyle. I can largely thank these changes for the end of my depression. However, I still try to remember that line, and to remind myself that there is an upside to thinking positively. I do think it's possible, in a limited sense, to "create a beautiful day."

Lucky me!

2010-02-23T23:19:00.000-05:00

Normally I carpool to and from work with the bf, who works just a few blocks away. But on Tuesdays he works from home, so I rode home with a friend. When I walked through the door, I was greeted with the aroma of sizzling bratwurst and simmering polenta. Dinner was served with red wine just moments after my arrival. And when my belly was full, I got a present:

Matt ordered four of these darling napkin rings from The Joy of Color on Etsy when I mentioned I wanted to start using cloth napkins. He's more on top of things than I am though, so now we have napkin holders but no napkins yet.

All in all, not a bad Tuesday once work was over.

Principles and Pocketbooks

2010-02-17T23:18:00.000-05:00

A friend of mine recently posted a Facebook update that alerted me to an advertising boycott of Glenn Beck. Apparently, this is something that’s been going on since last summer, but I wasn’t aware of it until today. I don't want to go into too much detail regarding my opinion of Beck because I think other people can do a better and funnier job of calling him an idiot. I do want to share my reaction to the boycott, because I really enjoyed reading about it today.

Last year, the grass-roots organization Color of Change launched a campaign urging sponsors to stop advertising on Beck’s show. The site StopBeck.com is entirely devoted to this purpose. Their efforts over the past seven months have yielded impressive results. The site lists 116 companies that refuse to run ads during the program, and a recent update indicates that in the UK Beck’s show has aired for the past six days with no ads at all (commercial time is filled with spots for the network’s own programming). For further detail, read the press release from colorofchange.org here.

The list of companies who have agreed not to support his programming with their dollars is actually pretty remarkable. I find it amazing to see huge companies actually respond to this sort of feedback. On a personal level, I was pleased to see the underwriter of my employer on the list (not that I’ve ever seen them advertise at all, but still).

However, these companies (for the most part) still advertise on Fox News Network (please appreciate the constraint I exercised not putting quote marks around the word news). Hateful/full of hate as Glenn Beck is, if the network is better, it's fractionally so. It’s about as “Fair and Balanced” as a Michael Moore documentary. The difference is Michael Moore doesn’t pretend he’s not liberal whereas Fox News purports to be unbiased. (As an aside, people who call Moore’s films docuganda should probably take a close look at the history of documentaries and recognize that a documentary can be an essay that makes an argument, not simply a presentation of facts. But I digress.)

To get back to my point, I think Fox News has a negative impact on the world and thinking about its popularity is borderline depressing. Their programming is designed to instill fear and I would rather see people turn to horror movies for that. However, reading about the success of the boycott campaign does make me feel optimistic. It’s not often that I see organizations with power (money) making choices based on principle instead of their pocketbooks. I find it refreshing.

I also think it's great that this change has been created by a web campaign. Much as I love looking at lolcats and reading Wikipedia all day, I enjoy seeing the internet used to affect the world in a positive way.

Habits

2010-02-12T22:19:00.000-05:00

My friend Rachel recently posted an entry including a link to a giveaway being offered by blogger Cherryblossom of The Madness of Mundanity. Entering the giveaway includes a fun little exercise called "Always, Sometimes, Never." So, here it is.

I always . . .

eat breakfast.
wear sunscreen.
spell out words and use punctuation in text messages.

I sometimes . . .

wear make-up.
complain too much.
drink soda.

I never . . .

leave home without lip balm.
like being without my computer.
eat raw onions.

And, because I'm in a silly mood, here are the answers given by my cat, Snoopy.

"I always like snuggles. Matt is my favorite snuggle buddy."

"I sometimes am a brave outside-kitty. Sometimes I go outside."

I never stop being adorable (I can't even help it).

Lost and Found

2010-02-10T21:17:00.000-05:00

So, I've had a brief hiatus from my computer. It was in bad shape, so I took it to a repair shop last week. It was ready by Friday, so I wanted to pick it up that night and have it for the weekend.

Well, Friday afternoon, Matt accidentally locked his keys in the trunk of his car. This is mostly irrelevant so I won't go into too much detail, but the result was that I walked to and from the computer repair shop (less than a mile from home). It was drizzly outside, not pouring but still mildly unpleasant. On the way, I found a passport on the sidewalk.

The passport belongs to a 17-year-old German boy named Erik. I didn't know what to do with it, but I knew the sidewalk in front of a car repair shop wasn't a good place for it. So I picked it up. While I walked, I tried to think of ways to make sure this kid could get his passport back. Should I try to contact the German Embassy? Should I turn it in to the police? Would I be able to find him on Facebook?

The experience made me think of this Regina Spektor song:

Unfortunately, finding a passport is a little different from finding a wallet. Unlike an ID card, there is no address on a passport, and even if there were, mailing it to Germany wouldn't exactly help the kid. What would this poor kid do when he realized it was missing? How scary would that be? The passport had his visa in it as well.

I also wondered what the boy was doing here. Not just in this city, but in my neighborhood. Was he here with friends? With family? With school? Was he studying abroad? Where did he visit on this street? A restaurant, maybe? I imagined him here with family, staying in a rented condo or house. In my mind, he was visiting Blind Lady Ale House (which admits minors) when his passport fell out of his pocket.

After picking up my computer, I stopped at a few local business, including Blind Lady, to look for him. I asked employees if they remembered anyone with a German accent visiting. No luck.

I tried to do research when I returned home, however, after just a few moments of use, my computer experienced a major error. In the end, I called the local police department and they had an officer stop by my house to pick it up. I can only hope that Erik contacted them to report it missing. I feel like I should have done more but I wasn't sure what.

In other news, my computer continued to have problems, but it was covered under the repair shop's warranty so they continued to work on it and now it's behaving itself. I definitely missed it this past week.

Cheese Flavored Ice Cream

2010-02-02T00:14:00.001-05:00

This weekend I made ice cream from salted Oaxacan cream. To be completely honest, I'm not really sure what Oaxacan cream is. My boyfriend got it to use in another recipe. It's got a sour cream texture but a cheesy flavor. We had a bunch left over so I decided to make ice cream out of it.

I think I was partly inspired by our visit to Neveria Tocumbo. There, the bf tried an amazing corn ice cream and I got the fresa con queso (strawberries with cheese, by my questionable translation). I found it disappointingly heavy on the strawberry. The cheese flavor was pretty subtle.

For this ice cream, I adapted a creme fraiche ice cream recipe from The Perfect Scoop: Ice Creams, Sorbets, Granitas, and Sweet Accompaniments by David Lebovitz. It also suggested a variation with mascarpone.

The results were . . . cheesy. Personally, I liked it, but it is very different. Some friends of ours tested it with us on Saturday and the consensus was that it needed a fruit pairing. Strawberries would be good I'm sure (I think Neveria Tocumbo was on the right track) but blackberries were on sale so that's what I tried yesterday. The result: A touch of tartness balanced by a rich, cheesy flavor.

Why lie? I'm a narcissist.

2010-01-30T13:58:00.000-05:00

Hi. I'm Michael. Yes, like the guys name. No my parents weren't expecting a boy. Yes, I've heard that one before, and actually, it's too tired to be worthy of a witty comeback.

This is going to be my space to write whatever I want. Lately I've been wanting to start blogging again, but I felt like I needed some sort of theme, something to tie things together and make it interesting. If not a topic, then at least a gimmick. For instance, a friend of mine titles all of here blogs with a notable quote. It lends a nice cohesion to her blog without limiting her subject matter.

So I mulled over it for a while. When I failed to think of anything appropriately clever I realized I should stop thinking and just do. Part of the reason I wanted to start a blog was to motivate me to write more. Waiting to start until I have a good idea is just procrastination; it's what keeps me from writing in general.

So here's the theme: ME. My thoughts. My feelings. My life. Whatever verbal vomit I feel like spewing, I'll do it here. Welcome.