podling | Recent Entries

Right, so several odd things happened this weekend. Figured some of you would
like to hear the highlights. They were odd.

Okay, so first, on Friday, we were cooking for a friend. To entertain Cara
while she was doing her cooking part, we read Adam's take on Sindarizations out
loud, olde time radio style. Ahem. I almost hurt myself laughing, and it had
about the same effect on Matteo & Cara. The poor boy didn't know what he was
getting into, he walked in and I said "Here, read the colored parts out loud."

Next day I went to Westchester County in New York. It's tree filled. We
wanted to kayak, but there are apparently no places to do that sort of thing
there. Weird. So I bought some nifty green overalls for way cheap at a doc
martin outlet, then we wandered off, looking at stuff, mostly. So anyway,
randomly driving around, Josh & I saw several odd sites. We drove through the
Bear Mountain area (most notable for the fact that Josh didn't know where it
was, even though there are signs every 20 feet or so near there, sort of like
how I didn't know where the Seaport is (all of 2 blocks away from work)) then
stopped off at a scenic overlook, where a vanload of chinese women were hanging
out with an old buddhist monk in his orange garb, taking photos and such.
There were also 2 bikers, the weekend warrior kind. So the monk goes over to
have a picture taken next to this fabulous harley and the guy who owns it
seemed somewhat amused. The monk was so happy. The woman taking the picture
was trying to explain to the biker that the monk loved the bike but could never
afford one. It was very... surreal, I guess. It was a very scenic overlook.
Off in the distance in one direction was a nuclear power plant, that likewise
was kind of surreal. Oh, and there was what looked like it wanted to be a
commune, that used to be a military base, that now has what seems to be a fleet
of Ryder trucks parked at it. Suspicious, if you ask me.

Eventually, we drive on, and I say something like 'what's that up on that
hill?' http://maki.simplenet.com/dmm/lulu/wilbur/wilbur.jpg (incidentally, i
have no idea whose website this is, or what it's really about, but it does a
good job of cataloguing where we were) Josh had no idea what I was talking
about, but decided to humor me and go investigate. And this is what we
found...
http://maki.simplenet.com/dmm/lulu/wilbur/sign1.jpg Now, look at that sign,
and tell me you wouldn't have investigated. Further on up the road we see this
one, which totally piqued our interest. It was an adventure at this point...
http://maki.simplenet.com/dmm/lulu/wilbur/sign2.jpg then we pass what appears
to be (and is) a convent http://maki.simplenet.com/dmm/lulu/wilbur/convent.jpg
We keep going, and it keeps seeming like the road will end, but it keeps
rounding odd turns around weird large stone buildings that look perfect for any
of the following options: a private artist colony funded by a eccentric rich
person, a cult headquarters, the part of the horror film right before the two
intrepid heroes bite it. Keep going, and there appears to be (and is) a huge
old stonework building on the cliff (as in, the first pic) that apparently is
now condos or something. It was so neat! There was a courtyard with a
fountain visible underneath gargoyles through this archway. But given that it
said things like private property and no trespassing, we didn't wander in.
Specially given that there was at least one resident tracking our every move
from their window. It looks like a fabulous place to live, and seemed so
weirdly private, what with the windy road and the convent and the cliff.

Now, the rest of the weekend, while fun, doesn't require comment really.
However, there is something I noticed there, and I'm wondering if this is a
northeast U.S. thing, or what. There are no places that are dark that you can
go to at night without it being against the law. All we wanted was to
stargaze, but there was really no place to do it. Everyplace that seemingly
exists is one of the following, exceptionally well-lit for our protection
(against whatever), private property (which may or may not be well-lit, IBM's
employee-access-only lot was damn well lit), public access (but not at night,
only until half an hour after dusk). Even near lakes around there. What
gives? They sell stargazing books and equipment, so where is it that people do
this? It's not like we were in a city or anything either. Why? Why why why?
I just wanted to enjoy the stars...

Andrea

My roommate bought another Williams-Sonoma cookbook. The soups one this time.
Now, you may recall my rant against them, and how their food isn't really made
to be made and eaten, but Cara just keeps buying them, but I digress. Anyway,
flipping though, we saw a recipe called "Cold cherry soup with kirsch". Now,
we have a bottle of kirsch and have been trying to figure out a way to use it
up, so this seemed like a godsend. Really! I mean, we like cherries, and the
other ingredients are fairly easy to find, so what the hell! The book claims
that this is a hungarian delicacy too.

So yesterday I get home, I start paying bills or something stupid like that and
Cara's attempting to remove the pits from cherries. Supposedly there's a
special tool for this, but we really didn't feel like running out to a
Williams-Sonoma store for it. Yum. Cherries with no pits. Not that it's hard
to eat them normally, but still.

So the recipe involves cherry pits, cherry flesh, sour cream, kirsch, lemons,
and riesling. Sounds disgusting, doesn't it? Umm, well, you know what? It
was. But I'm getting ahead of myself. So we cook it and puree it, and I
tasted it, and hoped that it would get better. It was a lovely shade of pink
puree. I could compare it to other things, but I think the less said about
that... Well, after stirring everything in, you're supposed to chill it for
three hours. At this point we still thought it had potential. I mean, it
wasn't horrible.

So we wait three hours and bring it on out. One bowl each, mmmmnnn. It looks
very similar to pepto bismol with something pureed into it. We each try a few
spoonfuls. It. Was. Horrible. Now, it was far from the worst thing I've
eaten, or even made, but it was pretty bad. I was giggling hysterically, it
was *that* bad. I couldn't control myself. Neither could Cara. I made her
snarf a cherry. It was pretty damn funny. And here we are, sitting on the
floor in the living room, laughing hysterically, with these bowls of alcoholic
pepto bismol looking stuff, that tastes primarily of kirsch and sour cream.
Ewwww...

At this point Marc reads the recipe and says, "Why did you even think this
would be good?" To which we had no answer. But we learned a valuable lesson.
See my sig file...

Andrea

=====
"If it's in the Williams-Sonoma cookbook, and it looks disgusting, it probably
is." --Cara

Well, after going and thinking about it for a while, and then playing with
every setting imaginable, we figured out where the problem was and subdued
Nigel The SAP Demon of the VCR, forcing him into complying with our wishes for
an English speaking tv watching experience. We now know how to control him and
will be using this power, should it become necessary again.

I swear, our appliances have issues. Between the computer only playing one cd
per operating session, the mouse it has suddenly decided to acknowledge as a
working component of hardware (after a year or so of denying it), the
playstation that stopped being interactive (decided it only liked playing with
itself), and now the VCR that wants us to be spanish speaking, I really don't
know what's going on...

~Andrea
=====
What kind of ungodly rat-bastard goat-demons are running this network anyway?

So already the details start to blur, like it was an event from the long ago
age of wonder. And it's been only a week plus two-ish since I've left.

So in a long-ago time and a not-so-far-away place I went to England to visit
friends (or freeload, you decide) and satisfy recent wanderlust cravings. I
went many places and did many things... hmmn. How to best sum up?

Well, firstly, almost every brit I met had some sort of issue with the fact
that I don't eat normal portion sizes, and that I'm not really that picky,
well, that's not true. It's just that I don't care all that much. Food is
food. Ever since I had no money a while back, I'm a lot more open to variety.

It took forever to get to JFK. This is half of the reason my roommate & I made
a pact never to fly out of there if given a choice again. The flight itself
was much like other flights, you go up, you come down. Okay, so I slept much
less than one would've thought on account of the super nintendo games. Upon
arrival, I was questioned by customs as to how I knew brits if I'd never been
there before. I was tempted to ask if this was a trick question, but
refrained, instead just looking at him strangely and saying that I met them in
the US (apparently brits travel for no apparent reason less often than
americans, who knew?).

Right, so eventually Richard showed up and we traveled upward to where he
lives. It was a long drive, but I really don't recall it taking that long. Of
course, my internal clock was probably some shade of not correct. And I'm sure
I babbled for most of it, so it likely seemed much longer to Richard.

So I stayed with Richard for several days (hi! btw) and we did many things.
Not that! Perverts... can't escape the peanut gallery here. Anyway, we went
to a cool mine (I also bought a fabulous ring in that area), the royal armoury,
York (funny postcard thing here), several movies, and umm, other places too,
including castle type formations. And I avoided hiking in the countryside,
that whole 5000 pound fine was a bit steep for me. Richard tried to impart
lasting impressions of England on me, things like castles, battles, and
domino's pizza. It was funny, it really reminded me of New England, or rather,
New England is in some ways similar to England. Oh, and Richard was asking for
it when the phone totally accidentally fell on him. He and his friend were
attacking me, I swear! Eventually I had to leave, if only to escape without
being prosecuted for the whole phone thing. This is where the weird,
almost-constant travel begins.

So on to British Rail, which is fairly easy to navigate. It was also more
roomy than the trains of the evil empire (Amtrak). Luckily all my trains were
late for approximately the same length of time, so I ended up in Brighton well
before anyone expected, where I met Gill & Allan. They were easy to find, and
not just because they're tall. We actually planned where to meet and sort of
described each other (which is not always a given for various housers, you know
who you are!). It was determined that I am still the Snow Queen, and we all
wandered for part of the afternoon, Gill took me to the tackiest palace-type
structure I've ever seen (with fabulous decor!) then I found a place to crash.
And the guy at the B&B gave me the evil eye, like he couldn't believe anyone
would be dumb enough to go outside 3 times in one night. I had much fun with
Gill & Allan, boring them with stories of corporate culture, and the freakiness
therein, even if I was compared to a small creature (thank you to Rick, for
resubbing me when I became a topic!) and didn't get to spend much time there.
Oh well, next time, I suppose. In fact, that was a familiar refrain for me, I
didn't get to spend enough time anywhere! Half a day in Brighton, the Isle of
Wight, and London really wasn't enough to see much.

Next day, caught a train to Portsmouth and the ferry to the I.O.W. Again, it
was remarked upon how fast exactly that happened. Maybe I actually have the
opposite effect in other countries, making trains run near on-time instead of
hours off. Hmmn. Thought to ponder. Anyway, it was on the boat that I
realized I'd traveled by bus, plane, car, train, and boat. I was impressed. I
was feeling a bit edgy on the ferry, wondering how great of an idea this
actually was, after all it'd been six years since I'd seen my friend, our lives
had changed in vastly different ways, for instance, I've never been married, in
fact, my longest running relationship was approximately a month, and it wasn't
a good one. So anyway... Alan was waiting for me and we had a blast. We saw a
bit of the Isle, hung out with several of his friends, and I don't think I've
laughed that hard in years. He and his friend started planning a trip to the
U.S. to visit me, so they can pick up american girls who'll go mushy on hearing
their accents. I'm not kidding. So eventually, me and these two guys may end
up at Universal Islands of Adventure, be on the lookout! Again, I felt I
hadn't quite planned enough time to hang out at the I.O.W., but had to move on.

Okay, this is getting long, I'll try to be less verbose here.

Another ferry, and I'm at Ian's, where I planned to mooch off him for a few
days. We chatted, watched Jaws 3 (heh), and stuff. Stuff including trying to
figure out how to find a Zorb place. Next day, my friend Andrew picked me up
to go to Legoland. And I don't care how lame you all think it is, I had fun!
But then, I like legos. The truth is, I'd considered going to the one in CA,
but it seemed like a bad reason for a whole trip, but it did seem like
something fun to include in this one. Andrew and I had never met before, but
it really felt like we'd hung out every day of our lives together, so that was
pretty damn cool. There weren't that many kids there that day, it being
off-season, so we had the run of rides, jungles gym things, and video games.
Heh.

Back to Ian's, then off to Glastonbury the next day. It was really cool there,
and I can completely understand why Ian brings people there. I would do the
same. And there was much to see and many cool stores there too. That thing
about "vaulting the choir" was odd, you have to admit. Whenever I mention it,
my friends all have the same thought I did, so it wasn't just me. Oh, and the
other comment I made was actually "the arch of the covenant" (little Indiana
Jones moment there) and something about arches to nowhere. I took many
artistic photos there, which I have yet to develop. Eventually we came back
and I watched my cds that had been delivered to Richard's house way back when,
and I was very happy with that whole scene.

Next day to London, which I think Ellen &/or Ian mentioned already. I'll just
say a few things. One is that I finally have the complete works of Michael
Marshall Smith, as well as the cd I was looking for. (Aside to Adam here, did
you read the short story one? I'm halfway through it, it totally kicks ass!)
The other thing is a memorable quote, or conversation frament, really. Ellen
said something like, "Let's go up that way, do the virgin, then get something
to eat." Ian readily agreed, and off we went. Ahem, figured you'd all enjoy
that one.

I'm compressing the rest of the time there, you've heard part of it. Got to
see, and sleep at, Ellen's dorm at TASIS. I eventually went home, sadly
leaving Ellen & Ian at Heathrow. Another plane ride, up, super nintendo, down.
Took me forever to get my luggage, after being one of the first people off the
plane. The customs guy asked if I'd been horseback riding or golfing. I
looked at him, said, "Golfing?" in a slightly incredulous tone, and he said,
"You know, golfing." I said no, of course, and he said, quite joyously, in
fact, "Welcome home!" It was surreal. Cara was waiting, and glad to see I
wasn't lost in JFK, because she'd been late getting there as it had taken her 3
hours to get there. This is the other half of why we made the pact. On the
way home, which took us much less than 3 hours, strangely, we discussed the
need to move, how she missed my sarcasm, how I'd actually heard someone call
out the name Nigel, and how we now had the books and cds I wanted.

To end, let me say that I had fun with everyone I hung out with, housers and
others alike. It was a great time, relaxing for the most part, and a good
running away from life experience. I must do this more often. The only
downside was that my one friend didn't move to London until 3 days after I'd
left. He claims he'll import me one day though. So, hi to everyone, miss you
all already! Hope I see you again.

So that's it, in a rather large nutshell. Hope you all enjoyed it, almost like
you were living vicariously through me, or watching the world through my oddly
skewed perspective. Questions, comments? Umm, make them all you want, I
suppose... :)

~Andrea

=====
"He had a weird voice. Not angelic host weird, I mean, there was no shattered
glass or burst eardrums, but it was weird all the same."

Otherwise known as... "Maybe it'll taste better if we add..." Yet another
cooking mishap related story... just be glad I don't share all of them with
you. :)

So my roommate & I were making cake (again) and not following the directions as
we should have (double again) [1]. But I won't list why that happened, it all
turned out okay anyway. Instead, this is about afterward, when the cake was in
the oven and we were relaxing...

So then we're sitting there contemplating how vanilla smells good, but tastes
questionable by itself [2] and I mentioned that Drambuie (probably incorrect
spelling there) when reduced tastes really good, and would probably be good on
ice cream. So then we decide to light up some vanilla and see how that is. [3]
So we took a few tablespoons, put it in a metal bowl on a hot pad on the table
and lit it up. And it made lovely blue flames. Then when it's short lived
life flamed out, we tasted it. And it was (not too surprisingly) not very good
[4]. So we decide to add other alcohols to it, to see if that will improve the
taste.

First we addeed frangelico, which must taste pretty bad by itself, I'm
guessing. That doesn't light up at all, so we taste it, and it's still bad.
So then we add some malibu rum [5] and it also doesn't light. Strangely, this
had actually improved the taste, but not enough that one would really want to
drink it. So then Cara adds vodka [6] and we light it up, and it burns for a
good while. We watch, entranced. It was such a nice blue flame! Then it goes
out, and Cara burns her finger on the bowl. We decide to wait to taste it, get
impatient, and pour it over ice into another metal bowl.

Then we taste it. And it tastes *just* like rum & coke! Strange that. Of
course, neither of us like rum & coke... This would be the end, but the fact
is that we bottled it up for future use. Never know when you might need
something like that.

The end.
~Andrea

[1] You remember the story of the cake, I'm sure.
[2] Both of us have this strange urge to taste it once in a while, I know
we're not alone in this.
[3] Many people would have stopped at this point.
[4] Or this one, for that matter.
[5] On the theory that coconut *must* make everything better.
[6] Because vodka will catch on fire!

=====
i've been visualizing blue again...