hhs_stories' Friends
[Most Recent Entries]
[Calendar View]
[Friends View]
Below are the most recent 25 friends' journal entries.
[ << Previous 25 ]
| Saturday, July 19th, 2008 |
arlan_bishop
|
7:43p |
My babies live in jars in the fridge & underneath the stairs Every several months or so, I find myself intensely craving pickled and fermented foods. I'm not sure it it's a physical response to some sort of nutrition deficiency (ummm...I need salt? Potassium?), but I've learned to just give into it. It's happening again, so I think I'm going to spend a few hours in the kitchen tomorrow and later this week. The local farmers' markets are lousy with organic stone fruit this time of year, a situation about which I am quite pleased. I think I will buy several pounds of green plums and do this to them. It's also been years since I last tried making cucumber kimchee, so perhaps I will try that tomorrow too. |
fightingwords
|
3:30p |
The brilliance will self-destruct at midnight.  LOVE this. All three installments are available for viewing until midnight. GO WATCH! |
docbrite
|
4:50p |
|
black_pearl_10
|
11:46a |
|
redshrike
|
11:18a |
dream, this morning. or last night, maybe. it was a very-many-things dream. it featured lots of people i've never met in waking life, and a few i have. it only had people in it whom i either have never seen or do not see very often (like, maybe a few times a year). there was a car, a wonderful old station-wagonish thing which turned out to be made largely out of very heavy old cardboard or composite, but it worked anyway, dammit. i loved that car. there was a man i had some harmless fling with, which i was happy about until i ended up, for various reasons, sitting for hours in his front hallway alone with nothing to do but read his mail. (in the dream, there was no prying intent in doing so; i just needed something to read, sitting there by myself for hours.) i realized that his other lovers were also his collaborators in artistic endeavors: dramatists, musicians, cooks, a whole chosen family of creative folks whom he had opted not to tell me about. it was a fling; you didn't introduce your fling to your whole extended poly family, he had thought, apparently. and then i discovered that the whole time i had been sitting in that front hallway, my father had been sitting in the driveway of the house, waiting for me. never going up to the door to ring or try to find me, just waiting in the driveway. he wasn't full of disapproval or recrimination; he was just concerned for my safety and well-being. i was frustrated with him nonetheless, for following me and sitting there waiting just in case something bad happened to me. (if the dad in the dream were my real dad, he would have brought along a book to read while waiting, or a crossword puzzle, or both. i don't know whether the dream-father did so or not.) and then i was unhappy, done with the dream but not awake yet, and to soothe me my dreaming mind tried to take me shopping in my brain. i found a garment which would never exist in the real world, and which wasn't wonderful because it would make me look good to anyone else (in fact, i think that if it could exist it would look rather strange); rather, it was wonderful because of what it was, what it could do. it started off as a marvelously comfortable striped sock (looking like these, probably available in any of the colors but most likely or most often in "rainforest"), but if you pulled it just so, this way and then that way and then this way again, it turned into a body stocking, covering the wearer snugly and perfectly from toe-tips to neck (and maybe even higher, like a mock turtleneck), with fingerless-glove hands and a crotch panel, even, all colorful horizontal stripes. and then i awoke, and my head felt unpleasantly foggy and my eyes were bloodshot, though i did not drinking or smoking not much sneezing either, not yesterday or last night. and then i made myself a delicious breakfast full of a multitude of different things, and it all tasted good together, and a little spicy, nicely so. and i'm still drinking my tea. |
agenthandy
|
11:12a |
ramblings from the wash:
if u were my twitter friend u'd b reading this by now....and don't forget ... agenthandy loves u! |
gordonzola
|
9:12a |
Chicago Hey, no promises whatsoever... but anyone out there live in Chicago and love cheese? I sometimes end up with extra Festival of Cheese tickets at the cheese conference and hate to see them go to waste. If it happens it will likely be last minute notice but it would be be for Saturday 7/26 at the American Cheese Society ConferenceIt's basically a tasting of 1200 or so cheese made in North America. Here's an example from last year . Must not be scared by crowds. |
| Friday, July 18th, 2008 |
redshrike
|
1:34p |
good while it lasted.
how can i put this?
i worked three days at the new job, and i was damned good at something i had never done before, and they saw that i was good, and i was liking the work and the workplace.
on the fourth day, i was ten minutes away from walking out the door of my flat to get on a bus headed for a 9am meeting. i was looking forward to the meeting, even. dressed and made up and hair braided, and my phone rings, my mobular phone, and i answered it even though i didn't know the number.
well, i've been laid off. me and the rest of the six most recently hired contractors. three different people from the company went out of their way today to assure me that it had nothing to do with my job performance. that they wanted me to come back to work for them once they got the go-ahead to re-up their contractor headcount.
and i gotta say, it was weird as hell getting that call, but i'm okay, and i'm not mad at anybody over this. |
crayonbeam
|
8:09p |
'cause everyone's your friend in New York City
There are so many of your posts that I want to reply to, but I've been oddly busy plus out of the house more than usual and of course no LJ at work and.... and I'm flying to NYC tonight!!!!! I'll be back just before Monday.
I will miss all and Max, but also SQUEE! |
animikwaan
|
5:10p |
|
docbrite
|
6:33p |
News From Chef Pete Update from Chef Pete Vazquez of the late, extremely lamented Marisol on his forthcoming move to Washington, DC, where he will be doing restaurant consulting and security work, as well as a look back at his time spent on the New Orleans food scene. (Don't blame him for the screwy punctuation; this food board seems to be in some kind of format death throes.) I knew Pete wouldn't be cooking in New Orleans again, and I knew he was planning to move (after all, he's been talking about leaving since I've known him, and he is about the only person who could do that without my offering him an immediate ride to the airport). Still, my heart sank when I read this because I knew it was finally ... well, final. Pete was easily the most talented and interesting chef in pre-K New Orleans. When I say that, I mean absolutely no disrespect to brilliant, creative local chefs like Bob Iacovone, Tory McPhail, or Gerard Maras, but for me, Pete was it. I like to think he would still be cooking here if he and Janis hadn't been royally screwed by their insurance company post-K (if I recall correctly, they were offered something like $4000). I'm not sure, though. I love my city more than almost anything in the world, but I'm not proud of the way Pete was treated here. Marisol was initially well-reviewed by the Times-Picayune, but seldom received much attention from the paper after that. His food was utterly over the head of self-proclaimed local "Dean of Food" Tom Fitzmorris, and in his usual charming manner, Tom went out of his way to insult Pete and Janis on his food forum. Lorin Gaudin gave Marisol excellent coverage in New Orleans Magazine, and kudos to her for it. New Orleans diners, though, tended more toward Tom's view. Marisol had a cadre of extremely loyal customers, but there was also a lot of resentment about Pete's almost total disinterest in New Orleans cuisine, his use of "weird" ingredients such as organ meats, and even the fact that he imported a lot of his seafood instead of using local stuff. I'm a staunch supporter of the Louisiana seafood industry and I think we have some of the best seafood in the world, but I'm also damned glad I got to eat Tasmanian salmon, those huge sweet sea scallops that tasted best raw and thinly sliced with very little adornment, great quivering ruby kaabas of sashimi-grade tuna, and more. New Orleans is a peculiar city, foodwise as in so many other ways: we're known all over the world as a great dining destination, but in many ways we are also a very provincial and limited restaurant market. The old saw about New Orleans having 500 great restaurants but only ten recipes isn't as true as it used to be, but I think some people wish it were still true. New Orleans still has plenty of good restaurants and a few excellent ones, but I find that I don't feel nearly as much excitement about dining out now as I did when Marisol was open. The constant sense of fun and adventure, the question of "what on earth will he be doing tonight?", they just aren't there anymore. Chris recently commented that he learned more about food from eating at Marisol than he did from working at any restaurant except Commander's Palace under the late Chef Jamie Shannon. As much as I loved Jamie and still love Commander's, I have to say that Pete taught me more. So long, dude. I'm deeply sorry on behalf of my hometown that we had a world-class chef like you and worshiped shoemakers like Susan Spicer and John Be$h instead. I'll be hating you for getting to eat Ethiopian food at 4 AM, but if you ever decide to head another kitchen, you have my word that I'll overcome my Nolagoraphobia to come eat there. I said "head" ... |
susannochka
|
4:05p |
Tweets for Today
with my spit
still on your lip
you hit the water |
pantryslut
|
1:11p |
|
pantryslut
|
12:45p |
So Let's Change The Subject.
The Watchmen trailer: very intriguing. It certainly looks right, doesn't it? I am suspicious enough to hold my judgment until I see some actual acting, however. And I confess that the words "From the visionary director of 300" did not exactly have their intended effect on me. |
katasutra
|
12:00p |
|
animikwaan
|
12:10p |
total devastation
last night, my-wife-of-thirty-years told me she's leaving me at the end of august to move in with her pimp... and leaving me with her little brat for a month while they search for a new place together. |
black_pearl_10
|
11:01a |
|
docbrite
|
12:28p |
HA HA HA PLOP That was the sound of me LAUGHING MY ASS OFF at the fact that the Delachaise, whose owners and their wives (the latter mainly in anonymous posts on local food boards) are often heard loudly proclaiming their joint "not a restaurant but a great bar with great food," was considered notable by the Times-Picayune for the departure of their excellent chef, but did not make the paper's 2008 Bar Guide (85 Great Places to Drink). It's OK, though; not even being among the city's eighty-five (85!) best bars won't prevent them from scratching their balls and getting drunk. (P.S. The food is still very good at the Delachaise, and I don't mean to discourage anyone from going there to eat. I just don't think it's as great a bar as they think it is. In fact, I think it's easily one of the most annoying bars I've ever been in.) |
pantryslut
|
9:04a |
Tips for Trolls
...and then I'm moving on with my life.
1. Insulting me by calling me "fat" is lazy, tired, and absolutely the number one most ineffectual way to hurt my feelings, ever. Believe it or not, I've noticed that I'm fat. I know that the hard part is believing that I don't mind...
...or, in this context, that I get laid plenty regularly anyway, and by a multitude of partners (of many genders). Oh well. If your reality is too narrow to accept that notion, that's not my problem.
2. Calling my writing credentials into question is the number two most ineffectual way to hurt my feelings. Ten years plus of freelancing might have something to do with that.
3. Calling my writing credentials into question when it is blazingly obvious you didn't even bother to do the thirty seconds of research needed to find said credentials is even more ineffectual. 'Scuse me for not using my LJ presence as a self-promotion tool, but it's not what I'm here for. If you want the info for any other reason than to insult me further, it's easily enough found.
4. Calling me a coward b/c I don't go trolling in other people's blogs and journals, and yet feel entitled to link and comment from my own -- well, at least it's a new one. But the Blog Police are going to be really busy if you insist on issuing citations over this particular issue.
5. Thank you for reminding me how very touchy people can be about gender issues. Speaking of police, I still have a book of tickets from the Gender Police stunt we pulled at the Dyke March a couple years ago. Maybe I should go give myself one, b/c it's pretty obvious to me that's essentially what I'm being called out for. (Your Perception May Vary.) |
nerak_g
|
11:41a |
It's the environment, stupid.
Of course, who cares about the environment.Bring the rapture.All of the pestilence is just a reminder that
Revelations is predictive text.
I've been reading two spooky books.If you think conspiracy theories are funny and vaguely sci-fi, the two books I'm reading confirm what I've been thinking for at least the last 8 years, which is that no matter how bad you think the state of our nation/planet is, it's actually worse than you can imagine.And nothing makes me feel old like remembering what it was to feel like you could protest and have success, be change, make change, etc.My scope for change has narrowed more to my immediate spheres.
On a happier note, we've getting record numbers at Cliterati when we do it at Charis.Last night was 60+ people.Sweet.Nice.good to connect.
It helps to have features from across ages, too.
Current Mood:  lugubrious legged |
| Thursday, July 17th, 2008 |
liquid_siftings
|
4:27p |
In praise of sexy (older) dames As if being whipsmart, vastly talented, and having amazing presence weren't enough, here's Dame Helen Mirren -- almost 63 years old -- at the beach:  Be still my heart... Current Mood:  lustful |
pantryslut
|
4:06p |
IHNJH,IJLTS:
"stiffle."
Yeah, I hear that some people get that way around me. What can I say, I'm just that hawt! ;) |
fightingwords
|
3:02p |
Weekend. FridayHubba Hubba Revue: JOLLY OLDE ENGLAND! *Simply Smashing Burlesque! *Ripping Good Comedy! *Variety Acts Pleased to Divert! Friday, July 18th, 9PM at DNA Lounge! RULE BRITANNIA! Join Lord Kingfish Drinkington-Jones, and Sir Edward Dane, O.B.E., for a Delightful Romp through Swingin' England! Grab your brolly and your bowler, Guv'nor, and GOD SAVE THE QUEEN! ( Featuring )I still have a plus-one, so if you're interested, let me know today. SaturdayPOP ROXX: The Last One Ever *sniff* I remember when the call went out that Saturday three (!) years ago--was anyone interested in a last-minute go-go gig at something called Pop Roxx? I was the first dancer there and on a box, and you couldn't have PAID me to get down, the music was so good. It's the end of an era, and I'll be there, dressed in green, like I was that spring night. You should come, too. |
nerak_g
|
4:05p |
Writer's Block: On Character Preferences
Today, it's THE RAVEN The darkness. Heathcliff |
pantryslut
|
12:43p |
Just gag me now. (Someone dishes out the same ol' same ol' on the supposed differences between sex with men and sex with women. Shit like this is what makes me feel suddenly very, profoundly genderqueer, 'cuz, um, no.) |
[ << Previous 25 ]
|
![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
hhs_stories's Friends Page
sleepy