serinde: (food)
Since we're all blizzarded today, it seemed like a good day for hearty stew foods. (Also, I had some lentils, and [livejournal.com profile] shechameleon got me an immersion blender for Xmas.)

1. Take 1 link (about, eh, 10"?) of andouille sausage. Chop it, crisp it up in the bottom of the cast iron Dutch oven.
2. Dice half a large red onion, 2 carrots, a yellow pepper, and three garlic cloves that are a little past their best.
3. Remove the sausage to a bowl; put the onions and carrots in the pot and start sauteing. After five minutes, add the peppers and garlic. (Put in some olive oil if it needs.)
4. When the veg is about there, deglaze the pot with a splash of wine (I used a Chilean carmeniere). Take a splash for yourself while you're at it.
5. Add a half cup of lentils, 1 tsp cumin, and 1 tsp paprika. Mix it all up, then put in 2.5 cups of whatever broth you have (I used half chicken broth, half reconstituted mushroom bouillon).
6. Let cook 'til the lentils are done, then use your shiny new immersion blender. Realize the pot is a bit too wide and the stuff too shallow in it for best use, and wipe the scalding broth bits off your flesh. Work with it, and blend about half of the goop into glorp.
7. Add back the andouille (remember the andouille? This recipe is about andouille) and let it heat through.
8. OM NOM NOM
serinde: (determination)
So I am back from Pennsic, and quite a war it was--if not in the sense that most people mean it, because I did not see a single battle, and had absolutely no notion on how the tally was going. The entire first half of the week was chiefly swallowed by last-minute sweatshops to finish up a sideless surcoat for a sewing buddy who was being elevated to the Order of the Laurel at court on Wed. evening, which we accomplished, with just enough time to clean up and change and sneak into the back before the ceremony. (There are several disparate rants which are attached to all of that, but I won't get into it now.) It did look fucking awesome, I'm here to tell you. But it is not what I want to spend my vacation doing, so our mantra for next year is Read My Lips, No New Peerages.

The weather was hot and sticky for just about the whole time, except the first night, which was ass-freezing cold (and due to a certain amount of bed jumping, I ended up with insufficient blanketry). This drained my energy and my will to live considerable-like, especially since with other commitments in play I couldn't spend the nasty hours planted in the swimming hole. I'm stuck facing the fact that my chosen century in conjunction with my natural endowment dooms me to unhappiness in hot weather. (LITTLE ICE AGE, PEOPLE!) I was reasonably comfortable in my lighter gamurra, but, I mean, wah. I also kept stealing Beth's bog dress, and was surprised to learn I could wear it without a bra and not be utterly miserable, at least as long as I was just lounging and walking--trying to perform tasks in it (even just washing the dishes or picking up around camp) led to bQQbie issues.

I did, however, exhibit in the A&S display for the first time. I had been dithering about it but, upon receipt of a double-barrelled blast from Beth and Greta, I was all "aaaaaaaaaaa yes yes please don't hurt me", and bodged together some docco on Friday. The display was two dresses, my older green GFD top layer (which I was wearing) and my new checked wool one (on the table), with comments on the differences and learnings gathered therefrom. Mine did not garner a lot of attention from the punters, because it is not ZOMG SHINY, but I was prepared for that; and almost without exception, the people who did stop to take note of it were the serious cats. And I believe I handled the questions they threw at me in a competent fashion. So, I think that can be considered a win. And at least I finished the eyelets on my other new dress in the six fucking hours I was sitting in the sun.

However, about 3 or 4 people either asked if, or assumed that, I had woven the fabric myself. O_O If that's the level we're dealing with, I am so fucking going back to wench-wear. (A propos of which, Real Clothes are too hard to get into and out of, so for Slutty Party Wear I am going to research period prostitute clothing, if indeed it was much different, and see if I can come up with something entertaining. Oh look, more excuses to watch Dangerous Beauty.)

I got a shiny! I have been awarded the Bronze Tower for service to the Barony of Settmour Swamp, chiefly for my helping-out on Troll shifts for Swamp events, and other instances of being my usual domovoi self. I even have a scroll.

Um. Also. There was this boy.
squee
I feel like me again for the first time in years, and by that I mean "long before the breakup".
To [livejournal.com profile] mangosteen: That "GLAH" business you used to bust my chops about? That.
serinde: (food)
Ninety Day Sour, a Long Island rosé, pickled vegetables that were awesome (I say this, I who do not like pickled foods), duck rillette, grilled sardines, duck confit, pork belly sandwich, duck/veal/shortrib meatloaf sandwich, duck breast. Donuts and ice cream to follow, which donuts were powerfully reminiscent of the rare occasions when Mom would fry up doughnuts of a weekend morning. Cabernet Franc with the second course. Milk punch with dessert.

If you're in B'burg, go to Rye.
serinde: (feminine complaint)
I left [livejournal.com profile] sweh's midafternoon, with a multi-faceted but not over-complicated program; drive south, check in on [livejournal.com profile] nedlnthred's cats as she's away for the weekend (and drop off some things and pick up some things), drive on to Jersey City, drop Bud off at our favored mechanics so they can figure out what's to be done about his muffler (and give him a general check-up as I will need to drive him 500 miles in a few weeks), walk up to Journal Square, and thus home via PATH and subway. The best laid plans, etc.

ExpandTMI starts here. )
serinde: (zzz)
The party can, I think, be labeled quite a success. My clever decompression techniques notwithstanding, almost everyone was there between 6 and 10pm, but there was enough population rotation that it did not get too crowded to move, so that's okay. I never did make the gougères, and at that, I still have a lot of terribly unhealthy stuff left over, in spite of giving a whole bunch to [livejournal.com profile] elibalin and [livejournal.com profile] nedlnthred. And a full pitcher of sangria, yet. Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison. (I am not as who should say hung over, in spite of a steady rate of booze consumption from 1pm - 10pm, but my stomach is more pleased with herbal iced tea today than is usually the case. Yes.)

I did hang the curtains and I'm pleased with 'em, as well as my purchase of a retro-ish metal table fan. The balcony chair and table also served well as the smoking section, though I think only the PFY took advantage of it. I may spend some of today's lounging time there.

Apparently we all missed a car bomb at Times Square that failed to go off in the early evening. My parties shake the earth, yo.

The dishes are mostly done, the floors swept (though the kitchen area could use a bit of mop action), and most stuff is squared away. I have to square away some leftover soda and beer, and make the bed, and that's about it.

Shout-outs to:
[livejournal.com profile] sweh, for pre-game moral support, schlepping, and making me rest my ankle
[livejournal.com profile] nedlnthred, for doing the first round of dishes, and procuring breakfast
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin, for also procuring breakfast
And all of you lovely people who came. Thank you all!

Now, I shall relax, with periodic breaks to lounge, and occasionally bask.
serinde: (brew-up)
So, a few developments for those who are not living in my brain.

1) I have a new job. My last day at Hunter was Friday, and I'm starting at Barnard on May 10th, where I will be Director of User Services (shut up). This is a big promotion-like thing, and I have moments of shrieking panic, but in my more rational moments I feel tolerably sure I can handle it. I also had the smart of giving myself some time between jobs, which I didn't really have last time 'round; I intended to spend it frolicking around in spring weather, except...

2) So that thing where I hurt my ankle at aikido and then some more in a mosh pit? It was feeling mostly better, so I kept going to class, and I kept going to yoga, and then it started to hurt somewhat when I walked, and then started hurting a lot when I walked, and I did the HMO referrals dance, and the referring ortho couldn't see me til July, and I went back and bibbled at Callen-Lorde's referral dept., and they sent me to the NYU walk-in clinic on Friday who tell me I have a chronic sprain because I haven't just let the stupid thing heal. So I have an air cast and crutches, and I'm supposed to keep off it as much as possible, and wear the (extremely ill-fitting) air cast when walking, and etc. I am coping with this with my usual grace and serenity: which is to say, hanging on by the skin of my teeth and being a whiny little bitch. I seem to have an enforced staycation, except the part where I still seem to be running around a lot. But I'm taking the bus whenever I can, and that's something, yes? In spite of the fact that some of the M66 drivers are rotten fucking people, to the point where one actually closed the doors in my face as I was about to put my foot on the step. (Some of the others are really nice, though, so I guess this evens out.)

3) I still have not hung my curtains. I faithfully swear that I shall call the landlady tomorrow and ask if we have a ladder. I have to change a light bulb anyways. Watch, I'll get them finally up and then hate how they look.

4) As far as I'm aware, we're all still supposed to put our plastic/glass recycling in clear plastic trash bags. So why do none of the stores around me sell 'em?

5) I'm having mental hysterics off-and-on that the progress I'd been making on the weight loss front will now be utterly destroyed by enforced inactivity. Because what can you do without a leg to stand on?

6) I went and asked a boy out, for a number of reasons, not least of which was to confirm that I was capable of doing so. I was ready for "yes", I was ready for "no"; I was not prepared for utter silence. The entire situation has led to numerous reflexions, including that my dating brain appears to be stuck at age 16.

7) I have Rock Band again, which makes me happy, except I really want to drum, but it's my right foot I hit the kick drum with, and that will just not do; and I prefer bass over guitar, but you can't have a solo career as a bassist (tell that to Lemmy, jerkweeds).

8) In spite of all of these bees, I'm doing pretty okay.
serinde: (maneki neko)
...in whom I am well pleased:



serinde: (food)
last night's dinner, a birthday celebration with (and courtesy of) [livejournal.com profile] sweh, at Gotham Bar & Grill:

YELLOWFIN TUNA TARTARE
japanese cucumber, shiso leaf and sweet miso
asian ginger vinaigrette

SEARED FOIE GRAS
tangerine marmalade, roasted cranberry, pain d'épices
maple sugar consommé
[this was the BEST THING IN THE ENTIRE WORLD]

ROASTED RACK OF BERKSHIRE PORK
wild boar crepinette, caramelized endive and sweet potato
pear cider reduction

MASCARPONE CHEESECAKE
apple linzer tart
cassis sorbet

With a Last Word before, and a bottle of Viognier during, and coffee after.

Thank you, belovedest pet!
serinde: (ki)
Yoga has been really, really good for me over the past year; and since sometimes the exigencies of duty have kept me from going, it seemed to me that I might profit greatly from doing some at home in the morning. I have found many excuses not to do this thing, ranging from "bleh morning snrk argh" to "wood floor is haaaaaaard". To deal with the latter whinge, I bought a Real Yoga Mat (which has koi on it! How can you not be inspired by staring at koi? ... ) about a month ago, which has sat idle since; the new excuse being "but I'm doing morning pages! I can't spare the time for both, not unless I want to get up super super early, and then what's the point of living so close, wah wah wah wah and anyways I'm going thrice a week and that's good". Well, okay; but the last several weeks, between vacation and the student email migration and lack of personnel and what-not, I haven't been going thrice a week. Sometimes I've been lucky to go once a week. And lo, yesterday I was up a pound from the holiday festivities; and I am feeling sniffly in my head, which I never seem to get sick if I'm exercising regularly; so this morning I had a nice tall glass of Shut The Fuck Up, rolled out the mat, and did a 20 minute workout from yogadownload.com. And it was Good, although lord does my balance and flow ever suck rocks right when I get up.
serinde: (glamour)
So, occasion: [livejournal.com profile] nedlnthred's boyfriend's birthday; a gala affair where the guests were requested to come in black tie, lingerie, or togas. Being us, we chose Door Number Two; something Moulin Rouge-inspired, perhaps with a dash of the ahistorical but really nifty courtesan outfits in Dangerous Beauty.

It so hap'd I had need to shop for corsets anyways, so I went down to Purple Passion, and they had something in my size that looked good on me, so I snarfed it. (It's claret silk with black/burgundy rose tracery.) I can't afford it, the more so upon realizing just how little we're actually getting out of the house sale (math is hard! let's go shopping!), but eating ramen is cheap and slimming, neh? But then, what to wear for a skirt? Thus I spent Saturday at Beth's, while she was making a corset from scratch, oh yes she did, figuring out how to turn my bias-flared black skirt into an Object of Greater Interest.

I took some of the scarlet silk taffeta Beth had bought for her skirt, cut it into seven 1.5" wide strips, and tacked them vertically on the skirt. Then I took some black lace (she needed the border motif; I used the center bit) and made a lace overskirt, which I swagged up along the front to match the bias flare, attaching it on each side with pink satin ribbon roses that I dug out of a corner. So that, and the corset over it, and garter belt with fishnets, and knee-high black satin boots with stiletto heels, and delicate pink-rose motif pendant necklace with matching earrings; and I did my hair in a coronet of braids with pink rosebuds from [livejournal.com profile] sweh's garden woven in. I am pleased to say that, for once, the end product of my labors came out pretty much as I had visualized them. It was a difficult birth, but the delivery was even mostly on time.

Lessons learnt:
1) Wow, a dress mannequin really does make it easer to faff around with what you're doing.
1a) But it's hard to faff when you don't want to be cutting your tolerably large bolt of fabric yet, since you haven't worked out how large a piece (or pieces) you will need for the task. This seems to require a level of visualization higher than my current tech level.
2) My machine-stitching skills are still kinda crap (though, in my defense, Beth's machine is not unlike a very fussy Thoroughbred).
3) Taffeta catches the light in markedly differing fashion depending on which direction you cut it in. (This caused me to waste some fabric {though it can probably be used for bindings} and about 40 minutes.)
4) I want to play more with shiny pretty things, which regrettably my usual historical efforts do not allow for.
5) I can drive an hour+ in a corset, because I am awesome.
serinde: (domestic)
I've spent most of the (still possibly insufficient, but at least greater) time at home recently nibbling at the This Is Not How I Want It problem. The chief process has been organizing the stuff that needs to go out, each according to its kind: this bag is for [livejournal.com profile] arkham1010, that one for [livejournal.com profile] elibalin, the monitor for [livejournal.com profile] nedlnthred's parents is in the corner, etc.; and then there is the large (and still growing) quantity of Stuff which is destined for donation.

Grump #1: the NYPL branch around the corner isn't taking book donations at the moment, because that would've been far too convenient. I shall have to schlep all the books I'm ditching up to either the branch at 78th and York, or to Housing Works at 77th and Third. Blarg.

Then, yesterday evening, I was seized by the urge to do furniture rearranging NAO NAO NAO, and so I did that thing. This involved unloading the bookshelves so I could move them, which opportunity I seized for more culling and a bit of reorganization. There was also a slight mishap involving another unit of furniture. I put it back together. ALL IS WELL, CITIZEN. Anyways, now the bookshelves are where the futon was, the futon is facing the fire escape window, and the smaller shelf unit with all my DVDs and some CDs on it is next to the kitchen work bench; but that is a temporary location, as I can now put an armchair there (if it isn't too large) and there can be actual seated comfortable conversation in the living room. It's also generally more pleasant and inviting, and I think I'm more likely to actually sit on the futon now.

Problems still staring balefully at me include:
1. Armchair + futon does not exactly a dinner party make. I can get a small table or something to put in the middle, but it's not sitting to dinner, you know? More like having noshies at a comfortable bar. Or am I holding on too tight?

2. I am not sure it works for gaming, either. Though it might do.

3. I would really like to put an end table next to the futon, but I think if I do, I won't be able to open the fridge.

4. The TV problem has not been addressed at all. I had a vague notion I could set things up so I could leave the iMac on my desk and just rotate it, to watch DVDs in comfort from the living room[1]; but it's just not going to work. And the way I have rearranged now[2], the focal point for a TV screen would be...attaching it to the window. Um.

5. Though I excised another large sack of books, and it let me put some more things on shelves instead of having them in piles, it's still not enough. I think I just don't want another bookshelf in here[3], and that means I have to live with what I've got, and argh. Well, if our house sale goes through next month, I can advance the eBook Solution.

But, in general, I look upon my work and find it Good. I can hang Dad's clan map of Scotland where the bookshelves were before, even. Now all of you people taking stuff of me PLEASE COME GET IT kthxbye.

[1] which still doesn't address the XBox issue, but it might do for the moment.
[2] I have one more shot in my locker, which involves putting the futon at a 30 degree angle, but I'm not sure it'll work, and I can't try it until more stuff goes away.
[3] except I'm going to have a small one in the bedroom for pr0n tasteful erotica, I think
serinde: (running)
Back to running today. 4 min. warmup, 21 min. running--of which I amped up .5 mph for the last third of it--, 5 min. cooldown. The effect of the amping-up was somewhat drastic; I came much closer to overheating, and am much more tired than I would otherwise be. Other than that, though, I found it entirely delightful and joyous. My various traitor body parts seem to be holding up well, too.

I want to curl up in the sun and snooze now.
serinde: (zzz)
I'd like to take this moment to appreciate Ranger (pictured in icon), who, although being legendary for his wide-eyed brainlessness--Steve was wont to call him the Beautiful Loser--, has scrupulously observed cat box protocols through multiple relocations of domicile as well as of box location.
serinde: (brew-up)
It was generally agreed that perhaps I had over-activited myself this weekend, so today was reserved for R&R. Therefore, naturally, I carried a shelving unit about 3/4 of a mile back from the Container Store and spent the day having another go at Making All My Stuff Fit. This has actually mostly been accomplished; I still have the two book-boxes of Damocles hanging over my head, but that's waiting on the coffee table, PC, Trinitron, and computer desk to go away. The silver chest is in a place where I can open it, the sewing supplies are a bit more sensibly and accessibly organized, and the keepsakes I'm not ready to think about are stowed.

Also: the cat box is no longer in the bathroom. Glory fucking Hallelujah.

In addition, I roasted a disturbingly-large hunk of MEAT!~ (they seem smaller in the store...) which should feed me for the week, and I baked cookies. Most of which I shall take into work and make everyone else's problem.

Several of the yards out my back window have been tenanted for most of the afternoon/evening, which is right and proper, but I wish that the neighborhood standard grilling technique did not involve fried lighter fluid. Lordy, it be reekin'. GUYS, IF IT SMELLS THAT STRONGLY, IT'S PROBABLY IN YOUR FOOD. I confess that part of my putative motivation for cookie production was to drown out the smell, but this didn't work. ...Oh hell, I think someone's lighting a cigar now. grrrr
serinde: (brew-up)
...as I hope to expand on some or all of these items later.

1. [livejournal.com profile] nedlnthred and I went to see Springsteen last night. It was a show of extreme awesomeness and energy, with the Encore that Never Ended, a thing we were just fine with. (I am here to tell you, though, that the new and probably exceedingly expensive parking arrangements at the Continental Airlines Arena^W^W^W IZOD Center are the worst I have ever seen at a venue, bar none.)

2. Therefore, today, we drove down to Asbury Park for the day, and what a beautiful day. It is not the howling wasteland of skank that it was when we attended a party there some years ago; it is being niced up, and in the good way, not the generic-corporate-chain way.

3. The buyers of the house have backed out, which is maybe not such a loss since they were major fucking pains in the ass, but it's awfully annoying to not be able to sit back and say "the fucker's sorted". Certain other vast irritants have cropped up in this arena, too, chiefly because we trusted people we were paying to tell us of things that in theory they should have been expert in when we were buying the place. Feh.

4. Tomorrow: Improv Everywhere MP3 experiment.
serinde: (food)
I didn't pack a lunch today, and was intending to just eat a Curry Inna Packet or something, but [livejournal.com profile] spride persuaded me out to get Indian takeaway from a place I'd noticed close to my apartment, which I'd wanted to try therefore; so I ditched yoga (it was going to half be end-of-semester tea-and-cookies anyways) and walked out. I admit the beautiful day had something to do with it, too.

However, we did not make it as far as the takeaway, instead being sucked into the gravity well of the Nanoosh Mediterranean Hummus Bar, which I had also taken note of. It is as good as it sounded. I got Hummus Chicken, which is hummus with some grilled spiced chicken and onions and a dollop of tahini in the middle, and also two beautiful, fluffy, warm, delicious pitas with which to manage your glorp. I had more than sufficient to take back half for tomorrow's lunch. I can also say that the mint iced tea was refreshing and nice; "lightly sweetened" as described. All of this was not cheap, but it was awfully good. And it's less than a five minute walk from my front door. <3

I really want to go back for the rice pudding with cardamom.
serinde: (body)
I haven't been to the Wednesday yoga class for several weeks, between training, conference, and ambushes of Duh. I did go today, whereupon the instructor greeted me, said it was good to see me, and then: "Wow, you're really losing weight!"

(This was particularly useful, as I felt like I was, but I didn't notice as how most of my clothes were appreciably different.) (No scale at present.)
serinde: (glamour)
...when everyone you pass compliments you on your new dress. Hurrah for Daffy's, etc.

Need: pedicure, fix my silver-and-turquoise watch, hair appointment.
serinde: (Sacred Chao)
So, coming to Chez Nous, one ordinarily takes the Dover train. However, my usual train home is not the 5:47 Dover train, but rather the 5:50 Gladstone train. I know this perfectly well, and yet, tonight, managed to have a brain fart and got on the Dover train. (Which I should not have been able to, as it was at that point 5:49.) I noticed this as I was on it & making my way forward to get a seat, when they announced it on the internal speaker; at which point I cussed, turned around, and started running back to the doors...which were already closed. And yet the train was not moving. The conductor said he could not open the doors and went on about how "they announced the train three times..." (WELL, ASSHOLE, I'VE BEEN ON IT UNDER A MINUTE.) Fine, whatever. I was increasingly peeved as we sat there for close on ten minutes, but phoned [livejournal.com profile] nedlnthred to find out where I was going. I figured it was not the end of the world, as one can generally change at Newark for a more useful train.

Much to my horror, however, this proved to be the express train. Which first stop is Maplewood. I didn't even know where Maplewood is. As we were discussing this turn of events, Captain Railway comes through again, taking tickets; I had out my monthly pass and just was holding it in the traditional Leaving Visible For You Whenever It Is You're Gonna Look At It fashion that is customary on NJ Transit, and eventually in the middle of my gibbering convo with Beth I realize that he's standing there looking at me. I have her hold a sec and ask if he's here for me, whereat:

Schmucky Conductor: "That'll be $1.75."
Your Humble Correspondent: "........what"
SC: "$1.75. Your pass is only to Brick Church"
YHC: "Wait, you're now going to charge me for getting on the wrong train?"
SC: "Yes, that's the NJ Transit rules"

Now, let me pause here to point out that the conductors have a lot of latitude. I have frequently seen them not charge at all, accept lesser zones to go to a greater distance, not charge step-up fees, charge random amounts of step-up fees...it's not like working retail where your register must be balanced at the end of the night. This clown knew damn well I was on the wrong train, didn't want to be on it, didn't want to be going where I was going, and he deliberately did this anyways.

I, of course, had no cash, as is often the case. (Somewhere, [livejournal.com profile] audiovile is chortling and having a giant I Told You So.) I was about to say "FINE PUT ME OFF ON THE NEXT STOP" when the fellow standing across from me said "Please, allow me..." and presented $1.75 to the Myrmidion of the Rails. Who had just enough cognizance to look slightly abashed, but took the money.

Naturally, I thanked my kind savior fulsomely, and we chatted for the rest of the ride. He did take the opportunity to mention his e-commerce web site, and gave me his card, but I think that's no less than fair. (He assumed that I was a lost City girl faring into the wilds of Noo Joisey, and I did not disabuse him of this notion, as it was far less embarrassing than reality.) We got to the station, Beth picked me up, and now there is fire and blackened salmon and what-not.

So, yes. Absolute fuckheadery, but an opening for an act of random kindness, which made me feel a deal better about the universe.

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