Date Night & Restaurant Week - Newport Beach, CA

It’s been one hell of a week and I’ve got a lot of things I want to get out of my head so I’m apologizing in advance if this entry is a bit scattered. Quite admittedly, my thoughts are not at all in a good place so I might come across a bit complain-y rather than funny and I apologize for that too. I’ve found over the years that writing is therapeutic when I’m trying to work something out and maybe that’s what I’m hoping happens here. I apologize for that too, especially for dragging you all into it. Oh, and I don’t have any pictures which really sucks. I might have to steal grab some off the internet just to add some color.

Where to begin? Well, to start off with, I vowed to myself on New Years Day that I would make an effort to get a lot of stuff I find an absolute hassle to deal with to just get it done already. These hassles I’m referring to almost completely involve medical and dental professionals, most of whom I have a complete aversion to, especially medical and dental professionals in the State of California.

I made a dental appointment, for example, after having nothing but bad experiences with dentists out here. In 2000, I almost went to small claims court with the first California dentist I saw. CA dentists are really that bad. In Wisconsin, when you are a new patient and you go to a dentist for a cleaning, the following happens: you get X-rays, and then you get a cleaning. You’ll probably get a fluoride treatment too if you ask nicely for it. In California, it’s a lot different. First of all, the only dentists your typical work insurance will cover are new dentists fresh out of dental school and typically fresh in the country. Another thing that is annoying is the obvious way that CA dentists try to extort the insurance companies. If you are a new patient in CA, the following happens: You go in for X-rays and an examination of your teeth and gums. Then you make an appointment for a ‘deep cleaning’. After the ‘deep cleaning’ you make another appointment for the ‘cleaning’. After the ‘cleaning’, you make another appointment to get one of the following, usually made-up procedures done, like gum treatments, invisible cavities, or whitening. Anything at all to make you give them more money. This is also the reason why it takes 4 months to get the first appointment.



So I made the appointment (I mentioned before that I was complain-y, right?) and figured out a way to get in sooner than the 4 month wait list. I told them my insurance was running out (lie) and that I had to get in sometime in the next two week. Not surprisingly, I got an appointment the very next day. Since I had X-rays done at another dentist 6 months ago (but couldn’t afford his prices to continue seeing him) I told the current dentist that I wouldn’t need X-rays because even if there was anything there, I wouldn’t be around to take care of it (lie) and please could I just get the cleaning. She, all of 28 and Indian, agreed. This is where I finally learned that a CA ‘cleaning’ is just a ‘polish’ and the WI cleaning that I was so accustomed to was actually the ‘deep cleaning’. Now, of course, I have to find a new dentist in the next 6 months to get a real cleaning. I am a bit grateful that I only got the polish though as this dentist was terrible. She missed half my teeth with the polish and kept squirting me in the eye with the cleaning tool. I hate to think of what would have happened if she had a sharp pokie instrument in my mouth.

OK, got that rant off my chest. Now on to the fun stuff…

One of the new things I did this past week was have Date Night. Kevin and I have been dating for close to 6 years now and save for the couple dates we had back in high school we’ve never really gone on a proper date. You all know we went on a couple dates in high school right? Quick update if you didn’t…I was 14, he was 16, we went on two dates…one to a school play, the other to a movie (Fletch Lives) then coffee…then he never called me again the bastard. He claims now that he had thought I was too goody-goody and he didn’t want to corrupt me. First of all, I think that’s a big ole lie to make me feel better but if it isn’t, he should have just waited a year. Just saying.

So yes! Date Night. We started off at what is slowly becoming one of my favorite restaurants if I could actually afford to go there on a regular basis, Billy’s at the Beach. It’s a high-end Hawaiian Fusion type place and they have the most awesome steaks. With your meal comes a salad, and instead of coming out in a little plate, it comes out on a lazy susan type thing with all your add-ons (onions, mushrooms, hearts of palm) and dressings in little dishes around it. Any place where I don’t have to utter the words, “Ranch, no onions please” when I order my salad is a good place. With dinner, drinks, coffee, dessert, and tip our bill was a hefty $150 bucks. We spent close to two hours there though and it was well worth it. After dinner we had, what I can only describe as, really full bellies. Tongue in cheek I suggested that we take a long walk on the beach, but that’s actually exactly what we did next. We parked the car on the peninsula and walked along the boardwalk for an hour or so. We looked (inside) at all the fancy houses and I kept making jokes about running into a dead body in the sand. After the walk, we had a couple cocktails at the Shamrock and called it a night.



But wait! There’s more….

It was also Restaurant Week in Newport this week! Every year around this time, about 70 or so restaurants in Newport Beach\Corona Del Mar participate in Restaurant Week. Basically they offer a 3 course meal for $15 per person at lunch and $35 for dinner. Most of the restaurants are pretty fancy places that normally charge $15 for a small salad. I couldn’t turn away from a chance to eat at a couple of these fancy places…it’s really the only time I could normally afford to do so.

The first place we hit was Arches. Arches is a Newport Beach institution and has a reputation for being one of the most over priced places to eat in the area. Kevin and I mistakenly walked in there one time not knowing this and were guilted into ordering an appetizer plate of $16 crab cakes. It came with 4 crab cakes that were very small. Kevin said that they were pretty good -not $16 good, but good. I had pretty high expectations for Arches during Restaurant Week, so I blame myself for being pretty disappointed. For $15, we got a micro-caeser salad, a super skinny piece of chicken in a lemon-caper sauce with pasta, and cherries jubilee (aka: ice cream with a couple of marinated cherries). It was tasty but I don’t think it justified $15 and I certainly don’t think it justified the normal price they charged for this meal.



Not to be deterred, the next day we went to Rothschild’s for lunch. I don’t expect anyone to remember, but Rothschild’s was one of the many places we hit for the Corona Del Mar eating tour last year. Rothschild’s gave you a little bit more variety in their Restaurant Week menu than Arches. I ended up getting the minestrone soup, meat cannoli, and tiramisu. Kevin had the bruschetta, chicken, and gelato. The apps were great, the main course was ok, and the dessert was absolutely fucking fabulous. Sorry to swear there, it was just that good. I ate all of mine and admittedly stole quite a bit of Kevin’s. The desserts themselves were worth $15, I swear. I want one (or both) of them right now.



I had wanted to hit a couple more places for dinner but Kevin kindly reminded me that even though it’s not as expensive as usual, it’s still expensive. He’s so smart. Maybe one of these days I’ll go on a dessert tour though. Rothschild’s tiramisu is first on that list.

Gah. You know what? I feel better. I had a couple more rants stored up in my head but after writing this all out, I don’t feel so…rant-y anymore. So, you know, you all got away a lot easier than I thought you all would.

I’ll be back in a week or so. This weekend is pretty low key…the rain is falling, the cat is curled up in a little ball by my side, and Kevin is playing video game on my other side…it’s just a good weekend to stay in and do….not much at all.

Aids in Africa Exhibit - Garden Grove, CA

You know, every time I haven’t written in awhile, I say to myself, “well, you’ve been awhile posting, but don’t mention it in the blog…no one cares.” But every single time I haven’t posted in awhile I still feel obligated to mention it anyhow. Like a formal apology of sorts.* *Which reminds me of a mere half hour ago when I had to eat crow to a customer who I sincerely was trying to assist but I ended up screwing up the information I gave them and they called me on it. Nothing says ‘Bad Day/Need Beer’ like uttering the words, “I give you my sincerest apologizes and regret any misgivings you may now have regarding technical support.”

With crow all over the place, I shall begin, though rather embarrassingly. I did do something new this weekend, which was to attend the AIDS in Africa exhibit at Crystal Cathedral this past Sunday. Unfortunately there isn’t too much to say about it, other than it was really good albeit short, and they don’t allow cameras inside. The pictures I have here are gathered from the Orange County Register’s website. Basically you are handed an iPod shuffle and some headphones when you first walk in. The guide speaking on the iPod gives you the name of a single child (out of 4), and you walk through the exhibit looking at this child’s photos and learn, eventually, whether or not they got AIDS or not. They even have a mock clinic set up where you hold out your hand and get your test results. It’s pretty powerful, and I’m not ashamed to say I cried a bit. But the whole exhibit takes no more than 20 minutes to walk through, that is, if you decide not to write a message on the prayer wall and\or listen to AIDS relief workers tell you ways to contribute.




I’m also embarrassed to say that I had an opportunity to go up to Long Beach on Sunday night to attend the Amazing Race Family/Friends/Fans party (that actually had a few of the reality star cast members there) but I got tired (read: lazy) and decided not to go. Now that would have made some great pictures.

You may be wondering what the hell I HAVE been doing, since it’s pretty obvious that I haven’t been updating here…so I’ll embarrassingly tell you…..I’ve been watching TV.

That’s right. TV. Big glorious flat screen TV. Kevin and I pooled to together the generosity that was ‘Christmas presents from family’ as well as a few of our own dollars, and ordered a Sony Aquos 37” flat screen television from Amazon. We ordered it the Friday after New Years and obsessed about its whereabouts for a week. And when I mean obsessed, I mean obsessed. I was on the Amazon site every hour on the hour. We called the shipping company every day to find out where in the country it currently was (which was mostly Reno, NV). It was suppose to be delivered to us on January 15th…we couldn’t wait that long. When we called and found out it was in Los Angeles, we fought Friday afternoon traffic (I say that blasé, but anyone who has ever lived in Southern California knows the pure hell that that statement is), endured the crazy over-fanatic security guard, and saved off hunger pains just so that TV would be snuggly in our living room for the Saturday afternoon Packer game.

Of course, any time you buy something that needs to be plugged in, you need to actually set it up. It doesn’t magically unwrap itself, put in the proper cords and wires, and tune in to the newest episode of ‘House’. Noooo, it needs help. I told Kevin that I would let him do everything…stay out of his way…cover my ears when he cursed too much. But I couldn’t stay away. It was new technology in the house, I had to touch it. As Kevin says, I’m for the tornado method of unwrapping everything right away, figure out as much as I can on my own, then try to locate the discarded manual under the pile of styrofoam and twisty-ties when I get stuck. He’s the keep everything in box while he reads through the directions and carefully pulls things out one by one as he needs them way. Yeah, I know, yet we get along so well….except of course when we are setting anything at all up\putting something together…which is how we got in a fight Friday night. And when I say ‘fight’, I mean ‘overreacting because we are both frustrated’. Basically I pulled out the power cord directly from the TV while it was powered on and I got overreacted-yelled at by Kevin and I overreacted-huffed away while he was still talking. We made up quickly and I’m proud to say that we were both on the couch Saturday afternoon watching the Packers kick the Seahawks butts in glorious HD. Seriously, it was like it was snowing in our living room it was so awesome.


Out with the old...


...in with the new.

And that’s what I’ve been up to, and also a reasonable explanation why I haven’t posted in awhile. I’m making it a goal to make the upcoming weeks a bit more interesting for you all to read so stick around, it will get better.

It's a Wonderful Tur-Duc-Hen! *Christmas Entry*

I didn’t think I’d be here until after the holidays, but after having the Christmas that I had, I simply couldn’t resist. Plus, I did something new, or rather ate something new, so I figured that it’s only appropriate to share it with you all.

As you may know, I had my family out from WI this past week as Kevin was gone in WI to see his. A couple days before Kevin left he surprised me with a tur-duc-hen that he had special ordered a few weeks ago from Louisiana. He had it delivered to the Harp so I had no idea what he was up to until he had me go pick it up.

For those who don’t know what a tur-duc-hen is, it’s a de-boned chicken shoved into a de-boned duck that shoved into a partially de-boned turkey. I have to use the word ‘shoved’ or it loses its humor factor. Oh, and in between the shoved birds is a layer of stuffing with Creole sausage. Yum. Kevin and I had wanted to get a tur-duc-hen for Thanksgiving or Christmas the very moment we heard of its existence. However, by the time Thanksgiving and Christmas came around, we had forgotten to order it in time and had to settle for a boring turkey with nothing what-so-ever shoved into it. Kevin getting the family and I one for Christmas was the most awesome-est present ever. The only sad thing was that Kevin wouldn’t be around to enjoy it.



After opening prezzies Christmas morning (I got the Harry Potter movie box set…*squeal!*), I went ahead and put in the tur-duc-hen. I didn’t tell the family what we were having and up until I pulled it out of the refrigerator, we all simply referred to it as the ‘mystery meat’. They were pleasantly surprised that we weren’t having ostrich or buffalo balls.


A thawed tur-duc-hen should take about 4 ½ hours to cook. Kevin had warned me that it is easy to dry out the bird(s) so I took plenty care to baste it every 45 minutes. I have also never basted anything before, so I guess that’s a non-exciting new thing as well.


The tur-duc-hen ended up taking 5 hours to cook all the way through (as indicated with my brand new meat thermometer) and when it came out it looked delicious regardless of what my father’s finger is indicating.


Everyone loved the tur-duc-hen, even my step-mother who didn’t have hers until the next day due to the illness of drinking the Bloody Mary’s I prepared for her. Sorry Mom! We accompanied the meat with mashed potatoes, green bean casserole (Kevin, there was nary a serving of green bean casserole left when dinner was over…you are the only one in the ole US who doesn’t like G.B. casserole! Hee hee), gravy and rolls (a typical Midwest dinner without a speck of non-dressed vegetable in sight). It was excellent.


After dinner, my dad stayed at home with our still very ill mother, while my brother, sister, cousin and I went down to the pier to meet Patrick and Michele for a Duffy ride. If I thought I was having fun before, I was about to be blown away.

Things started out simply enough. We cruised around the bay for a few hours, drinking wine, eating cheese and crackers, talking and looking at all the fancy houses decorated with Christmas lights. It was fairly quiet on the bay and with all the tur-duc-hen in my stomach I became really relaxed to the point of sleepiness…but in that good way.




About an hour or so in, we ran out of wine. There was no place on the bay to stop and get more, so instead we floated over to Michele’s parent’s house where Michele’s ex-husband’s boat just happened to be.

“You have to be really really quiet”

“Why?”

“We’re going to steal some wine off of the boat.”

So Patrick and I became the official pirates of Newport Beach. Except there wasn’t any wine on the boat so we took some Bailey’s and Kaluha instead. Michele wasn’t happy with our plundering so she snuck into her parent’s house for wine and the most delicious eggnog I’ve ever had.


After another hour or so, we floated past the Balboa Bay Club and noticed that they were indeed open. Even though we weren’t dressed properly, we went in anyhow and had a couple cocktails courtesy of Patrick. We talked with the gay bartender, Stephen (who gave my brother and my cousin free beers but not my sister and I), and watched Michele sing with the pianist. We might have been having too much of a good time as the manager kept giving us the stink eye the entire time and looked a bit too relieved when we finally left.




We floated around for another hour (Michele had tried to head back but all of us, included Patrick, pleaded for just another 20 minutes more on the boat) and finally docked. My car was parked at the Shamrock, so we all decided to go in for a cocktail courtesy of me.

Michele and Patrick were pretty tired so they left right after their drinks were done. My sister, brother, and cousin who are all in their early twenties wanted to stay, so stay we did. We ended up talking with Finky and Nads most of the night.


It was at the Shamrock that my sister taught me the Christmas Tree Dance. The video explains most of it (with the actual dance of course) but I’ll describe it as well. The dance goes as following: First you make the tree, then you hang the garland, then you put on the ornaments, then the star, then the presents, then you chop it down and take it to the curb. It’s an awesome dance as Maggie will demonstrate below (even though the music isn’t optimal for it).



At about midnight, we took a cab back to my house. Of course the KIDS (they yelled at me before for calling them that but I don’t care) didn’t feel like they were done so we walked over to a very dead Pierre Street Annex. I made the KIDS fill out Lotto ticket slips for me (didn’t win a thing by the way) while my sister did the Christmas Tree Dance with the DJ. Thankfully the bar closed after about 40 minutes of us being there and we finally went home to pizza and tur-duc-hen.

Best. Christmas. Ever.

Happy Holidays!

Merry Christmas everyone! Just as last year, I’m going to take a little break from the blog over the holidays. My Dad, step-Mom, brother and sister are all coming out to California from Wisconsin for Christmas and I couldn’t be more excited. Unfortunately (but good at the same time), Kevin will be in WI visiting his family and I’m going to miss him terribly. However, his days will be filled with snow and mine will not, so I’ll have plenty to be smug about when he calls. Hee. I’m evil.

I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday and a fantastic New Year!


Waiting for Santa...

Trans-Siberian Orchestra - Milwaukee, WI *Guest Entry*

With the holidays fast approaching, and with my family coming out to CA to visit me during them, and with the recent events, etc. etc. I have been, well, not doing anything new this weekend….for a couple weekends. BUT! Never to fear! My best friend, Beth, who I have sung her praises in the past, has agreed to do my something new this weekend for me and write about it here. I will, of course, have to interject occasionally within her post as that’s just the kind of thing I like to do….interrupt.

So without further ado, I present Beth’s experience at the Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert in Milwaukee, WI.:

Oh What Mine Eyes Have Seen and Ears Have Heard!

Trans-Siberian Orchestra…

Words are not going to be able to give this concert due credit. I think if I even used a video recorder, it still couldn’t do it justice. This was the most PHENOMENAL show I have ever seen. Extremely loud sound system, heavy guitar riffs, the Milwaukee String Orchestra, guys with long black hair and girls with long black boots, crazy good vocals, piano duels, killer female violin player, lights, lasers, fireworks, pyrotechnics, I’m telling you, the show had it all…all except an on your feet, scream your head off, dance till you drop crowd. I think that is the first concert I ever sat through. One of the musicians even told us to sit back down after we gave a standing ovation for one of the songs. WAA?! I guess that is what they are used too. Cool for me because it saved my feet from hurting. We all did our fair share of clapping and WOO!ing to make up for it.

[That reminds me of the time I was told to sit down and be quiet at an Anaheim Ducks hockey game…damn Disney]

If you are not familiar with Trans-Siberian Orchestra, you probably celebrate Hanukkah. [But…I don’t celebrate Hanukkah and I’ve never heard of them] They are one of the more popular modern Christmas song composers today. [OH…Christmas songs…that’s why] They rock out songs like the Nutcracker Suite, Christmas Canon, and Hark the Herald Angels Sing. If you heard some of their music, you would definitely recognize it. My mom (who came with my husband and I) aptly described it as “Christmas music for baseball players, you know, on steroids.” Try trans-siberian.com for some sample audio and video. [Or, you can watch that Miller Lite commercial with the house lights]



This particular concert was held at the Bradley Center in Milwaukee, WI. [I saw Duran Duran there. See? I like to interrupt] It started with lights blazing and flashing everywhere and them playing one of their signature songs. Then a narrator with a voice to rival James Earl Jones came out to start a “Twas the Night Before Christmas” like poem. It had the same rhythm, but a completely different story. And so the musical story began. Narration, rock out, narration, ballad, narration, guitar duel [oOoo], narration, ballad, so on and so forth all the while with lights and lasers a flashing. It was a beautifully moving story about an angel trying to find the spirit of Christmas and his trials along the way. He eventually finds it in a bartender who helps a girl get back to her father by giving her all the cash from his register. It was a little more involved than that, but you get the picture.



After the story, it was time to ROCK out. Proud Mary, Charlie Brown, Opera, Classical, Jazz, Christmas music, all in rock star fashion as we were entertained by the best light and laser show EVER. It was absolutely fantastic. If you have never seen them before, I suggest you do. You will not be disappointed. Best show I have ever seen.



I think my favorite part was when they finished. [That is the funniest line in the whole entry] One of the guys came out and said “We’re not going to play the game where you cheer for 15 minutes and wait till we come back. We got another show in an hour. How about hearing a couple more?” Hallelujah! I hate the encore clapping. We all know that they are going to come back out. Why must we scream and clap? Some would say that they need a break…shut up. Try working with 10 three year olds for five hours straight before you get a break. I must be jealous. Any way, the encore was fabulous! Fireworks, pyrotechnics, lights, all flawlessly choreographed to music. Have I said best show I have ever seen enough yet?



Well, unlike a rock concert, I have no fabulous exit. I can only say I ended the evening at my favorite Indian restaurant, with my favorite dish, and 2 of my favorite people: my husband and my mom [Readers, I’d like to think that if she was listing her 10 favorite people, I would be included. I’m hoping anyhow…she has a lot of relatives]. Plus the Packers won yet another game [WOOO!] so it was an Awesome day all around.

In memory of Grandpa Lach 1918-2007

In the summer of 1986 I took my first paying job as a dishwasher at my grandfather’s custard stand in Milwaukee, WI. I was thirteen years old and I made minimum wage, which at the time was $3.35 an hour. My first day on the job, my grandpa took me back into his office to give me a scoop of custard and to hand down the following law, “When you are on the clock, you are not my granddaughter, you are my employee. I expect you to behave as one.”

Regardless of my employee-only status during dishwashing hours, I had a great time working there. There was a 3 by 1 foot hole by the dishwasher’s station that was used to bring in the trays of dirty dishes. Mostly it was a peephole to look out into the restaurant and gossip about some of the crazy customers with my 60 year old co-worker. I don’t remember all the crazy customers but I do remember the guy who would come in and put salt on his chocolate sundae. The job had other perks for a 13 year old….like going down in the basement cooler to get a big can of Hershey’s chocolate syrup and licking the spoon after I was done pouring it into the serving jar…like making the soup in a pot I could have sit in (I’d like to mention now that there wasn’t much besides the custard that was homemade)…like carving the cheese slices on the big carving machine…like custom ordering your burgers and hot dogs from the cook at lunchtime.

It was a great first job and true to his word, my grandpa always treated me like an employee, but an employee that he really liked a lot.

My grandpa passed away this past Wednesday. I am very fortunate in the fact that he is the very first of any of my immediate family to die, however, that fact alone made me take the news as a bit of a shock. I was honestly beginning to think that my family would live forever. I am not as close to my grandfather as I wished I would have been. But I do have my memories and if you will excuse the slight switch in posts, I’d like to list a couple more of them here, sans pictures.

When I was much younger than 13, when we would go to visit my grandpa at the custard stand, he would let any of the grandkids keep any money they found on the floor of the office. He would count the money of the day back there and change was due to fall. My grandfather was big man. Well over 6 feet tall and almost as wide, picking up a fallen dime off the floor to even out the books would be way too much effort for a big man in a small office to muster. The floor of the office was covered in a layer of grease and dust tracked in from the kitchen (the kitchen was always cleaned, the office…never) but that didn’t stop the grandkids from getting grease and dirt under their fingernails for the $2.47 the floor was bound to contain. I think I once garnered over ten bucks but that was due to a lull in other grandkids visiting. With a pocket full of dirty money, I could saunter into the kitchen and make myself a huge custard sundae with chocolate, caramel, chocolate sprinkles (aka: Jimmies), and not one but four cherries. Yeah, I was a big kid.

Speaking of big, the other great memory I have is at my brother’s 5th or 6th birthday party. Grandpa had showed up as a passenger in our Uncle Dennis’s new corvette. Grandpa, as I mentioned, was a big man and the Corvette was a very small car. Not understanding how he managed to get into the car in the first place, he had a hell of time trying to get out. I’m sadden by the fact that we didn’t have a camcorder at the time as seeing my grandfather stuck in a little gold Corvette like Pooh Bear - with my father pulling on his arms on one side and my Uncle Dennis using his feet to push grandpa from the other - was a classic.

I’ll miss you Grandpa Lach.

Paul Frank Warehouse Sale (Part Duex -Holiday Sale)

Holy crap! People are stopping in to the site in droves because of the Paul Frank Warehouse Sale post! Always wanting to give the people what they want, here is the information regarding the Paul Frank Holiday Warehouse Sale going on this weekend and next weekend.

Two points I want to mention before you click on the below flyer link:

• You people in Europe and Asia that are checking in….are you planning on flying out for the sale or is there something you want me to pick up for you? If it’s the latter, I’m kinda broke, even at sale prices. Send me money and I’ll do it though (shipping and handling charges do apply!)
• Now that I’ve provided you the information that you were so desperately searching for, you should do me the honor of reading at least one other post. Not the one directly below, it’s not my best work….maybe the one on Irish Stew? People seemed to like that one.

Laguna Festival of the Arts (and Mom's visit) - Various, CA

It’s December already? How the hell did that happen? Last I checked the knob on the air conditioner didn’t go past 10 no matter how bad I wanted it to (“Why don't you just make ten louder and make ten be the top number and make that a little louder?” “[pause] These go to eleven.”) and now I’m shivering when I get up wondering why I didn’t turn on the heat the night before. I haven’t even gotten my Christmas cards written out yet! How are all of you to know to send them to me if I don’t send them to you first? AHHHH!!!

Heh.

Speaking of holidays, it was recently Thanksgiving; and for Thanksgiving, my lovely mother came out to visit me. The visit was good, but busy. My mom was always cold except for about 15 minutes on the last day during the afternoon when she was sitting in the sun with only TWO long sleeve shirts on, rather than three long sleeve shirts (one being long johns) a winter coat and a pair of gloves. Seriously. I honestly don’t know how she manages being in WI where it is easily 40 degrees colder than it is here. I questioned whether or not she had her own heated ‘bubble’ environment that she uses. I think she said yes and I don’t think she was lying.

But besides her being cold, it was good. She arrived on Thanksgiving Day and we spent a long time talking while we waited for the turkey that was only suppose to take 3 hours to cook took 5. I didn’t have enough foresight to provide proper snacks so for those 5 hours, we nibbled on crackers and Pringles while slowly getting tipsy on holiday cocktails. Ah, a proper Thanksgiving. We also played Children’s Cranium (she won) and I forced her into watching the latest episode of ‘Pushing Daisies’.

The next day Kevin stayed home to do what he does best (which I’ll jealously say ‘is nothing’ but what I really mean is ‘having a good time puttering around in pajamas’) while my mom and I tried to go whale watching. Unfortunately the whales are currently on holiday in Baja, Mexico and won’t be back until December 17th (They are consequently not checking voicemail either). We ended up going for breakfast and playing a hundred and one rounds of “What do you want to do?” “I don’t know, what do YOU want to do?” before pajama clad Kevin texted me and suggested we go to the Laguna Beach Art Festival that was having its Christmas themed art…thing.



I’ve never been to the Festival of the Arts building so we ended up parking all the way on PCH (and paying $10 for parking) and walking the mile and a half to the festival (where parking was $3). I wasn’t expecting much from the festival so I ended up being pleasantly surprised. There was your standard fare of paintings and jewelry, but they also had a live glass blower demonstration, a snow making machine (!!!), and the most real looking Santa I have ever seen. My mom kept asking me if I wanted her to buy me something, (“Do you like that? Do you want me to get it for you?”) but I kept turning her down. By the time I did find something that I wouldn’t have minded having (a gorgeous paper origami on oil painting) she had stopped asking.


My mom also got in trouble for taking pictures of people’s art without asking, and I managed to snap this picture of her with two older ladies who weren’t actually purposely dressed as elves.



My mom showed them the above picture. The woman on the left looked at it in the digital camera window and said, “Oh dear! I need to wear more color!”


We stuck around for a good three hours before trudging back the mile and half to the car.

After a dinner with bad music in Dana Point, we headed back to Costa Mesa to pick Kevin up so we could all go to the Harp. At the Harp my mom drilled Brian on the materials and methods he used for his recent flip. I don’t know if Brian was happy or uncomfortable talking about it. My mom really likes discussing siding and travertine floors. I basically know where I got my love of TLC remodeling shows.

We did nothing worth mentioning on that Saturday, but on Sunday, we all woke up early and went to Catalina. That’s right, Catalina Island on golf carts! And yes, it was still awesome. We had dinner at a so-so fish restaurant (I got a burger) and then went for drinks at Luau Larry’s. Luau Larry’s was having a drink special…I don’t remember what the drink was, but it came with a straw hat. Of course I had to have one. After Kevin saw my hat, HE had to get one. And because of that, we have these awesome mementos:





Our last stop was at the Cantina. My mom stated to the waitress after asking what time the last boat left, “We’re not from around here.” Because we were still wearing the hats (among other things), the waitress responded, “That’s pretty obvious.” It was a good moment…almost as good as other Catalina tourists taking our picture and someone making the following comment when my mom climbed in a tree to get her picture taken, “Look! It’s a hat model!”




My mother admitted the next day that it was the most she has had to drink in a long time. I’d like to respond, “That’s pretty obvious.”

Heh.

On Monday while poor Kevin had to go to work, my mom and I drove around taking pictures of palm trees. Or rather, I drove and she would yell, “Stop Stop Stop!” when a photographic palm made an appearance. I’ve told people that story since then and they always suggest that I get her a palm tree or a light-up palm tree Christmas tree for a present. To that I respond, I can’t- she already has them.


My mom left on the Tuesday after Thanksgiving and it was sad to see her go. I’ve got more family coming in for Christmas so it’s definitely a nice but busy holiday season this year. Evil cat Chloe has been sharpening her claws and perfecting her hisses for the occasion. One of these days I’m going to have to create a new website called, “I swear our cat isn’t normally like this” with videos to support my cause.

Go Elf Yourself

I'm not quite ready to post the monstrous entry which is 'my mother was in town and I took her places'. To make up for the lag, I present:

Kevin and Fish in Go Elf Yourself

Happy Turkey Day!

…there’s going to be a few changes around here…

Unless you are blind, which I’m assuming that you’re not since you are reading this without Braille, I’m in the process of changing the look of the blog. Heather at GoofyGirl Designs has been helping me (and when I say ‘helping’ I mean ‘completely doing it herself’) with the header and the new layout. It’s currently a work in progress so although the header will stay the same, other things are prone to change. The background may be gray now, but in two days time it might be blue or have crazy stripes that make you dizzy. I just don’t know yet. I guess this is the long way of saying “Pardon the mess”.

In other news, Happy Thanksgiving! My mom is flying in from WI this morning and I’m going to make my traditional turkey dinner fit for the Mongolian army. I’ve actually only ever spent a single Thanksgiving with my mom as I was always with my dad and step mom in Mayville (and you have to know that if a town is called Mayville, it’s a small ass town) for dinner. I hope she enjoys the food, as there will be enough of it to feed the entire town of Costa Mesa. The Packer game is also on this morning (9:30 AM!) so you have to know that Kevin is tickled pink….or will be when he actually wakes up.

So there you have it. Blog changes. Turkey. Mom.

Have a great Thanksgiving everyone!

Indian Reception - Anaheim, CA

Once upon a time there was a young Indian man (Indian as in India, not Native American) who began working at the same company as the author of this here blog did. By per chance, this young Indian man shared a cubicle wall with the author of this here blog and they became friends in a general acquaintance who works with you and shares a cubicle wall sort of way. His name is not something this author of this here blog can reveal, so this author of this here blog will call him Fish, as that was his sometimes nickname name.

Fish is a great co-worker and cubicle wall sharer. He taught the author of this here blog a few Indian words and phrases that may or may not become useful in the years to come. One of these phrases is ‘shukriya’ which means thank you and has impressed a couple waiters at Mother India. An even more useful phrase - mainly during work hours - is ‘Monet coontalow ave-che; muje maar dalo abhi’ which means “I’m bored; kill me now.” Fish was also gracious enough to share with the author of this here blog tastes of his incredibly yummy smelling lunch from time to time, most of which was very spicy and made the author of this here blog drink lots and lots of water and squeak to Fish that no, in fact, it wasn’t that spicy. Fish knew this author of this here blog was lying.

When the author of this here blog met Fish 3 years ago, he was a young lad of 25. Fish would on occasion mention how old he was (not in the “oh yes, I’m 25” way, but in the “I can’t believe how OLD I am, I’m going to be 30 soon!”) and that his mother thought it was high time that Fish got married. The author of this here blog would laugh at Fish, but also secretly cursed Fish for calling the author of this here blog old as the author of this here blog was already in her thirties. But the author of this here blog digresses. Anyhow, while the author of this here blog thought the pressure of getting married at 25 a bit unusual, the author of this here blog understood that there are different cultures and traditions so didn’t argue. In fact, the author of this here blog suggested to Fish that he date one of the waitresses at Mother India....that didn’t work out.

A couple years later Fish mentioned that his mother had put an ad in a newspaper in India looking for prospects for Fish to marry. After calling and emailing one of these ladies, Fish went to India for 3 weeks to meet her and came back engaged.

Fish went through an agonizing 9 month wait while immigration did what immigration does best….paperwork. Finally, in September of this year, Fish and his Indian fiancée got married. The marriage was in Kentucky and was strictly family-only. 2 months later Fish and his new Indian bride held a reception and invited the author of this here blog and the boyfriend of the author of this here blog to join in the celebration. The author of this here blog was elated!

Last Friday night was the reception. The author of this here blog and the boyfriend of the author of this here blog were seated at the honky table with a few of our fellow co-workers who were also invited.


Fish's Bride, Fish, and Kevin ACTUALLY WEARING A TIE!

As one can imagine, an Indian reception follows a different pattern than an American style reception. An American style reception goes as follows:

1. Guests start to get drunk at bar while waiting for bride and groom to ‘appear’
   
2. Bride and Groom announced, slow dance ensues
   
3. DINNER!
   
4. Toast after toast that make guests sleepy after all the booze\dinner
   
5. CAKE!!!
   
6. Dancing
   
7. Chicken Dance\Shout!\YMCA
   
8. Dancing
   
9. Drunken brawl between Aunt Gretchen and that creepy uncle that no one can remember his proper name (he’s just referred to as ‘Ass Hat’)
   
10. (WI Only) Bridal party leaves to get more drunk at local dive bar. Guests either get taxis or beg the bartender for just one more Miller High Life

At this particular Indian reception, there was no booze. While there was no booze, there were appetizers. And after appetizers, there were speeches. And after speeches, there was cake. And after cake there was dancing, and not just slow dancing, THIS kind of dancing:





The author of this here blog thought it was awesome. Though because of being unfamiliar with tradition, began to think that maybe the appetizers WERE dinner. But no, after 45 minutes of dancing, dinner was served. It was delicious.


Shannen would be in heaven, everything but 1 dish was vegetarian.

Then there was more dancing! Fish came around and tried to get his sorry honky co-workers to dance but we all refused. The author of this here blog WOULD HAVE danced if it weren’t for the fact that the author of this here blog was with co-workers and was terrified of ‘hearing about it’ Monday at work.


Fish knows how to get down. The author of this hear blog wishes she did.

Irish Stew - *HOME ENTRY*

It’s been awhile since I did a home entry, hasn’t it?

It’s November, which means that Southern California will get bouts of cold weather in between bouts of really hot weather. And when I say ‘cold’, I mean about 60 - 65 degrees. If you’ve lived here long enough, 60-65 degrees entails falling in love with your sweatshirts (which is honestly the only form of a ‘winter coat’ I have) and eating soup again (ha! I first typed ‘soap’ which spell check wouldn’t have caught and would make you wonder how much of the sun has gotten to my brian. Ha! ‘brain’). All last week it was ‘cold’ (and I’m using quotes to repel nasty comments from my WI readers) so while I was sitting snuggly in my sweatshirt, I thought about making soap (!! SOUP !!) or stew for my new thing this weekend.

After perusing around Allrecipes.com I finally decided on a nice Irish lamb stew because I’ve never cooked lamb before and in fact, I had no idea what it looked like before it was cooked. I know what it looks like when it’s on the big spindle at Greek restaurants and I certainly know what it looks like before it’s dinner, but not raw. By the way, I’m sorry vegetarians. If it’s any consolation, I always manage to convince myself that the lamb I’m eating looks like this:



And not like this:


Please don't eat me.

Basically I like to think of my lamb as Phil Spector, not Mary had a little.



Anyhow, when I first printed out the recipe, I failed to notice that it called for 6 POUNDS of lamb. I think the recipe was under the assumption that I either had my own lamb in the backyard and/or I was attempting to feed 17 children. I obviously cut the recipe in half but still felt a bit awkward asking the butcher at Ralph’s for the 3 pounds and certainly felt that I should of cut the recipe into fourths since it’s only Kevin and me. However, my measurement skillz (with a ‘Z’!) have always been poor (I cringe when they pick that subject in ‘Are you Smarter than a 5th Grader?’ because I will always get the question wrong) and didn’t know if ¼ a teaspoon of thyme would equate to more than me waving the thyme container over the bowl and hope it got the essence of it, so I just halved it.

Here are the ingredients. It’s too long to list so I won’t:



Strange thing about this recipe is that it called for a pound of bacon. First of all, I don’t remember ever having Irish stew that had bacon in it and secondly, I just realized that I never halved the bacon like I did everything else. Seriously, that just occurred to me right now. Oh man, no WONDER why there seems to be as much bacon as there is lamb.


Homer Simpson would be proud.

Anyhow, so I cooked a heart attack’s worth of bacon while Kevin cut up the lamb. We rolled the lamb in some flour (that would be a great line if the lamb was still alive) and browned it in the bacon fat. Added the bacon and lamb to the crock pot and added the beef stock, onions, and garlic. Set the crock pot on high and let cook for an hour and a half.



While that was cooking, I cut up the potatoes and the rest of the onions. I cheated and bought the pre-cut carrots because sometimes I don’t mind paying 27 cents extra to make up for my laziness. I then aligned all the ingredients on the counter so I could give you my Martha Stewart money shot.



After about 45 minutes, I went to check on the stew. It didn’t appear to be simmering like the recipe said that it should. I reviewed the recipe closer only to realize that it said to use a S-tock pot, not a C-rock pot. I think I was so excited to use the crock pot again that my eyes saw ‘ock’ and went for it. This mistake meant that I had to transfer the contents from the crock pot to the stock pot (which in our house we simply refer to as the “big ass pot…you know, for the chili”) and try to boil it instead of simmer to make up some time. Kevin told me there is no ‘making up time’ in cooking, but I didn’t believe him and boiled away.


From Crock pot to Stock pot

Now’s a good time to mention that when Kevin and I cook and there’s some sort of boiling/simmering action going on, we will have a silent flame war. This is something I’ve never mentioned but always noticed….I’ll set the stovetop to around 3, let’s say, because I want it to simmer. I will then walk away to do something else -adjust the volume on the TV, smoke a cigarette, get a glass of water, whatever - and when I come back, Kevin will have turned the knob to 1. He will have walked away by this point, so I’ll put it back to 4…one more to make up for the 1 he had it in. Later, he’ll come by and set it back to 1, so on and so forth until it’s either done or he will exclaim, “do you really want this to boil?”

…which is exactly what happened with the stew. And because the stew took 2 hours to cook, it happened a lot. Regardless, the stew turned out perfectly. It was a bit strong in the lamb flavor the first day, but by the 2nd day it was great.



Oh! I forgot to mention that I added the potatoes, carrots, and onions after awhile, but I’m guessing you figured that out, huh?

IN OTHER NEWS….

I wanted to give a couple of shout outs since I’m here. First, I wanted to say hello to Bux who was gracious enough to bless us with his presence Monday night. It had been about 3 years since I’ve seen him last. With all good friends the conversation and laughing were easy and made 3 years seem like 3 days. He’s also engaged now, which is awesome, because he deserves to be happy. And just between all of us, I really have no recollection of making him buy shoes for a night in LA those many years ago. Not saying it didn’t happen, I just don’t remember it. Thanks Bux! You are always welcome at the Casa de Costa Mesa.

To Bethhead I'd like to say thank you for the awesome knife! Kevin and I realized it was the sharpest knife in our current knife arsenal and were very pleased to have it around.

Last, but not least, I wanted to say hello to my dad who celebrated his birthday this last Sunday. When I spoke to my dad, he was in a Packer bar with the rest of my family watching (what else?) the Packers and….doing Jell-O shots. He made a claim that the Jell-O was going to be good for his fingernails. I think he forgot that Jell-O isn’t good for your fingernails; it’s just MADE of fingernails. I love him regardless. Happy Birthday Dad!