Welcome back - here's some cray-cray!

My dear readers! I am back! I have survived a very large work thing and I am here to entertain you once again with pithy witticisms and making fun of celebrity outfits. I was trying to figure out what to write as a welcome back post...something about how we define family, maybe? Something about what happens when an average-sized woman drinks a Big Gulp-sized hurricane in New Orleans? (Spoiler alert: NOTHING GOOD COMES OF THAT.) Something about peplums and how I am sewing them into all of my skirts so  I can eat pizza with immunity? All of these could be entertaining, but none are as entertaining as the brilliant piece of writing I just found via Facebook - Werner Herzog's letter to his cleaning lady, Rosalina. Or, as he begins, "Rosalina. Woman."

I know, it's long. But it is SO worth it. SO chock full of amazing turns of phrase and absolute fury over the "caked debris haunting that small plastic soap hammock in the smaller of the bathrooms." I must insist you read it. Here are my favorite selections:

Tell me, what was there before you were born? What do you remember? That is nature. Nature is a void. An emptiness. A vacuum. And speaking of vacuum, I am not sure you’re using the retractable nozzle correctly or applying the ‘full weft’ setting when attending to the lush carpets of the den. I found some dander there.

The poetic ease with which he goes from nature to the dander in carpets is truly art.

I have only listened to two songs in my entire life. One was an aria by Wagner that I played compulsively from the ages of 19 to 27 at least 60 times a day [...] The other was Dido. Both appalled me to the point of paralysis.  

 This is meant to explain why he cannot tolerate Rosalina listening to pop music while she cleans.

The situation regarding spoons remains unchanged. If I see one, I will kill it.

WERNER HERZOG WILL KILL A SPOON IF HE SEES IT.

Do not fail to think that you are not the finest woman I have ever met. You are. [...] Thank you for listening and sorry if parts of this note were smudged. I have been weeping. Your money is under the guillotine.

We're all in agreement that all currency transactions will now be concluded with the phrase, "Your money is under the guillotine," right?

I am deeply, deeply in love with this letter because I think it is hilarious, completely sincere, and so very threatening. I would challenge us all to write similar letters to people who have done us a very small injustice such as not dusting behind the DVDs, but I don't think we'll ever be able to live up to this standard. Stay gold, Werner.

I have been weeping.

Work hard and wear tons of eyeliner.

I have always been a busy person, my dear readers. Back in high school, I tried to be in all the clubs, do the school play, do a community theatre play, and keep up with some honors classes. That was insane. These days, I work an increasingly-demanding "day career," work with the theatre company I co-founded, maintain a romantic relationship, and try to be a good friend and daughter. Turns out that all takes a bunch of time. I'm exhausted. I am constantly on the lookout for relaxation techniques, calming lotions and sounds, drinking tea called Tension Tamer (alternated with Energy Boost - but Tension Tamer tastes better), and taking little mind breaks.

Over the past few weeks, I find myself actually making time to put on makeup and think about clothes. Why? What is going on? Why in the world is that what I'm concerned about right now when I have important deadlines and big things that have to get crossed off big to-do lists? And then my friend D forwarded along this poem from Bentlily.com

This poem will not endear me to Margaret Atwood

 

I know I should be more discerning
but I want to believe their glossy promises

serums that vow to smooth my hair
chia seeds as good as a nap
the buckwheat pillow that changed that woman’s life
and even though I can’t remember how
and it weighs a ton
I feel good every time I lay down
imagining all the various forms of betterment
ticking away inside me as I sleep.

I know I should be suspicious
roll my eyes
say smart things about not falling prey
say something Margaret Atwood would applaud
in that gravelly voice of hers
that sounds wise and tired at the same time

but as the world thumps onward
festering with problems
sometimes it’s a relief
to focus on your pores.

EXACTLY. YES. This is what I wanted to say! Life is really crazy and busy and there's a lot going on and sometimes it's helpful to just think about frivolity. And watch cat videos on the internet.

Last night my friend texted me encouragement that I'd handled a tricky meeting well and that the tasks of the next week would go well. This morning I briefly saw an acquaintance on the bus who told me I looked pretty. I guess if we keep working hard and keep putting on makeup, everything will turn out fine.

But if all else fails, here's a cat video.

Just a Quickie

My dear readers, I don't have a ton of time to gossip with you today but the Fug Girls posted this photo and I couldn't not show you.

Am I on glue or in this photo does The Sev looks like Edie Falco on a bender? She's all sorts of bad haircut, weird makeup, unflattering dress, and shoes that look like you've chained your feet together. Oh, The Sev. I love you. Never change.

Seriously one of the best meals of my life

I love food. I love to make it, I love to eat it, I love to talk about it. I glory in a perfect meal enjoyed with friends. My hips and thighs will back me up on this point.


--SIDEBAR--

Sometimes I get down on myself about my body but when I think of my shapely legs as the product of burrata and pork belly, I cannot help but feel better about them.

--/SIDEBAR--



This past weekend I had one of the best meals of my life, cooked in front of my eyes by one of my dearest friends. Rosey and I have been friends pretty much since the first day of college. We lived on the same floor freshman year and I quickly came to think of him as a friend I would keep forever. Yeeeeears ago he brought this awesome woman to see a show at the theatre company I co-founded and I immediately knew I needed to be friends with her as well. Luckily for me, they got married. Even better, they invited me over to their new house for dinner this past weekend with our friend K. K and I were buddies in college who lost touch until last year but now we're back and deeply in love with each other and our renewed bond. This is all to say that the company certainly enhanced the meal enjoyed - especially since they are all fantastic eaters!

Rosey has an entire bookcase of cookbooks and is one of the only people I know who actually uses them. I can't remember which ones he used for these meals, though I think something came out of Momofuku and something came out of Top Chef. Whatever, let's get on to this meal!

First course was sake marinated salmon with wasabi crème fraiche, served in a martini glass with pickled red onions and fresh tarragon. HOLY SHIT. I don't know where Rosey got this salmon but it was absolutely perfect. This dish was light with just the perfect amount of heat.

Second course was homemade seafood sausages (shrimp, scallop, halibut) served with a spicy jicima slaw and chimichurri sauce. WHAT!? When I arrived at the house, Rosey was poaching the sausages, formed and wrapped tightly in plastic wrap and my head exploded. He made a honey-chili glaze and baked (or broiled... could have been broiled...there was much wine) the glazed sausages right before serving. The slaw was spicy and crunchy and the perfect complement to the delicious seafood sausages.

And then? And then. And then there were chinese-style pork belly buns. PORK BELLY BUNS. Hoisin sauce, scallions, homemade pickles. You know, homemade pickles...like you do. I cannot emphasize enough how delicious these were, how perfectly the pork belly was prepared, how much I love buns. (Insert joke about "unless you got buns hon".) (Now you have Sir Mix-A-Lot in your head.) (You're welcome.)

So, at this point in the evening, we're all dying from the intense deliciousness that is this beautiful meal. Oh, but there are two desserts. TWO. A cold chocolate soup (WHAT!?) with fresh whipped cream and chocolate-covered cocoa puffs. This was amazing, obviously. And then? Oh, you know, just a couple of batches of homemade marshmallows, one half dusted in cinnamon sugar and the other in peanut butter powder. Peanut butter powder, I should add, made by SCIENCE.

There was only one thing left to do after such an incredible meal: collapse on the couch, tell each other how much we love each other, and watch a tv show called Too Cute about adorable puppies being adorable. I hope you all get to have a meal like this sometime soon.