The river is too deep to ford

In the midst of some spectacular life upheaval and alternating bouts of work-related wrath and ennui, I've decided to regress. Well, first I tried making a chicken pot pie with a dill buttermilk biscuit crust. It turned out to be utterly sublime, and we ate it for 3 days. But now it's gone, and I am cold and alone, and my pants don't fit quite right.

Anyhoo, to the time machine. In 7th grade, I had a sorry excuse for a computer class where we were all forced to type for five or ten minutes. Once we all mastered the cut n' paste commands, there was nothing else to learn in the computing universe of 1989, so we'd play Oregon Trail.

One day there was a mass suicide on the trail, so copies of Where in the World/Where in Time Is Carmen Sandiego were trotted out. The person who solved the most cases in the period won a soda. Sometimes it was a Coke, sometimes it was a Dr. Pepper. I won every single time by virtue of having a basic grasp on history and geography and realizing when I'd already played a case. It was fun the first few times, and then I started giving away the soda to the dumber kids because I felt bad. I'd even screw up on purpose and drag things out intentionally, but what could I do, they were a bunch of baboons.

Oh, and that Chicken Pot Pie recipe is from the Bon Appetit Best Recipes of 2001 cookbook. And I'll let you in on a secret, I don't boil a whole chicken, just 4 boneless, skinless breasts. Much easier. Also: when they say "flour your work surface" for biscuit time, they so aren't kidding. I also serve it with a riesling, your mileage may vary.

-xxoo

Posted 8:06 PM by Licketysplit

Lambchop turns the world on with her smile

Bringing new meaning to the term "phoning it in," I am pleased to present news from our young spitfire, who is still without internet access.



"Ian McCulloch to Lambchop after the show last Thursday at the Paradise:
"Well, heeeello.  Saaay, you're rather fetching!"

I have adored this gentleman since I was 14 years old boring into a copy of Porcupine.

Greatest. Day. Ever.

Well, it runs a close second to the day I got my first tapeworm, anyway."

-xxoo

Posted 11:09 PM by Licketysplit

Well, I swan

This morning Mr. H shellacked my quaint old Carrie Bradshaw PowerBook with a slick coating of Panther.

"They're going to run out of cat names soon, huh?" I said. "Jaguar, Panther, what else is ferocious? Puma?"

"Um...Tiger?" said Mr. H. "They already used Puma. I think the next one's going to be Tiger. And then they could do...what's that one that's like a mountain lion but out west?"

Cougar-Mellencamp, dear. I guess there's always Cheetah and Lion. I would hate to think Apple would have to stoop to something like Tabby or Ocelot.

I hope they go with a solid regimen of dog names for the next incarnation. Dingo, Hyena, Chihuahua, Melvin, Goblin. Or dinosaurs. I'm always partial to the velociraptor.

Then I logged into iChat and found that my usual icon was magically replaced with a pink lipstick smooch on a white background. They did it for me, all for me! How did they know? So I went to the Lisa Frank site for old times' sake. Yup, still scary.

But even the dastardly Ms. Frank could not have orchestrated the wedding I went to yesterday. Don't get me wrong, I like the happy couple. But I would have fired the DJ on the spot. The guests were each forced to take out a dollar, hand it to their "table captain," and pass the wad around the table to music. Then the lucky soul left holding it was impelled to dance around the table, passing it to the person in front of them when the music stopped. Finally, the ordeal ended, and the "captain" was awarded the centerpiece (which involved a pumpkin), and all the captains descended en masse to the head table to shove the dollar bills down the bride's top.

-xxoo

Posted 5:43 PM by Licketysplit

Ima make a pie tonight

pie

-xxoo

Posted 2:56 PM by Licketysplit

It's my party

Friends, Romans, Stalkers!

And now the moment you've all been waiting for: wedding pictures! This is just a small selection, and they are marked. Carl Walsh took them, he's aces. Email me for access to the full web site if you didn't get a mail already (1000 images, if you were there, you are probably in them in some embarassing position).








bring it


-xxoo

Posted 8:09 PM by Licketysplit

J'élévai la prétention d'être indispensable à l'Univers



Beaucoup ne deviennent jamais doux ; ils se décomposent même en été. C'est poltronnerie ce holdeth ils rapidement à leurs branches.

(Many never become sweet; they rot even in the summer. It is cowardice that holdeth them fast to their branches.)

Posted 4:30 PM by Licketysplit

Remains of the day

There is a 40-foot model of a colon in Copley Square until Saturday. I'm just passing that along in case you want to scope it out.

-xxoo

Posted 5:33 PM by Licketysplit

Leaving on a jet plane

Well, not really. Not at all. But Mr. H and I are fleeing thickly settled Somerville at long last! We're moving to beautiful downtown Lowell. Yes, that's right, Lowell. We just put a deposit on a loft in an old factory. And don't get me wrong, this is a yuppie loft. It might sound all industrial, but I have no interest in sledge hammering out my own breakfast nook. There are people to do those things, and those people thankfully already did them to this place. Nothing to do but figure out what art to hang on the walls and enjoy paying less than $1 a square foot per month because it's LOWELL. Also, there is a surveillance system. I've always wanted to hover my finger over the button marked "hounds" when Mr. H's relatives pitch up. Or to be fair, my own relatives as well, although they are easier to anticipate because they are usually blowing on jugs.

I've noticed there's a baseball series of some sort going on, and it seems to involve a Boston-New York rivalry. How quaint! I don't really follow the sporting world aside from hating figure skating, but I have heard the strident hooting in the streets.

The fact is that I don't think Boston cares that it's not New York, and that infuriates New Yorkers infinitely. People who enjoy Boston enjoy it for what it is. It's city-lite, with just enough historical nonsense tossed in to feel legitimate. I've lived in Boston for about seven years now, sticking around after college like everyone else. I've lived in the Fenway, in Brookline, in Beacon Hill. I'm an around the way girl. It's been good, and I am lucky.

So I must recognize some of the acceptable things about Boston. It's so cute and manageable, so clean. Ridiculously easy to get around, provided you keep your intended use of public transportation to civilized hours. We have adorable miniature similarities to New York things without all the fuss and bother of muggings and traffic. They have Central Park, we have the Boston Common and Public Garden. They have the Statue of Liberty, we have?um?that phallic thing in Bunker Hill. They have the Empire State building, we have (oh jeez) the Pru. They've got Chinatown, we have the Fung Wah bus drop off and a stone lion or two. Hey, we've got a bridge and a tunnel. We've even got hipsters and eurotrash, for chrissakes!

Essentially Boston is like a cunning little souvenir snow globe filled with people with hilarious accents. A snow globe with lucrative employment opportunities and overpriced real estate and bars that close shockingly early. Don't make it out to be something it's not, be ye Bostonians or flatland touristers. Boston is forever doomed to be irritating Scrappy Doo, but New York is doomed to be Bluto. Pick on someone your own size for a change.

And?I'll be in Lowell, opening a Sushi Samba rip off. Hahahahahahahahaha.
-xxoo

Posted 11:26 AM by Licketysplit

Action cat, cat of action



This is as lame as it gets, people. Pet photos. I am essentially punishing you for reading! Just like I am punishing the guy who sits in the office building across the alley by picking my nose while staring right at him. He *started* it by staring at me. And I wasn't picking my nose the first time, just scratching it. But then he looked at me like "Aha, I caught you." So I glared at him. He glared back. Now it's WAR.

The little mister and I got a new coffee table a few months ago, and Coco loves to stuff herself underneath it, so Mr. H took a picture after provoking her. We call this compulsive need to burrow under something "weaseling." She's not happy until she's wedged into the couch or tunneled into the middle of the laundry basket. We call her "Weasel." She doesn't really care, since her brain is the size of a walnut. So we abuse the privilege and call her "Monster" or "Monstro the Monster Cat."

This morning was not cute. She woke up me at 5 a.m. by biting my tank top strap and letting go. Repeatedly. She has all the finesse of an 8th grade bra snapper, but it's a pretty effective tactic. She figured this out when she was but a babe. She does not do it to Mr. H, since he doesn't make a habit of wearing spaghetti straps. But mommy is fair game. Apparently I am doomed to play out biological gender roles by someone not even of my same species. Curses! She also has a shocking lack of respect for cashmere.

Anyway, then she threw up. Luckily not on me. So that was my day. How about yours? Whoopty shit.

-xxoo

Posted 2:36 PM by Licketysplit

not with a bang but a whimper

Recent times have proved most interesting for Lambchop and I. She has been diligently serving a term as an office girl at an Attorney's firm. In addition to carefullee polishing the handle of the big front door, she regales me with tales of the executive lunchroom and hilarious doings with spreadsheets. She has even stopped screeching "WHAT do you want?" when she answers the phone, instead favoring the dulcet tones of a 1950's sweater girl. But don't ask her for legal advice at parties, unless you are a doctor, prepared to examine portions of her anatomy in exchange. Quid pro quo.

Me, I had a birthday. This seems to have altered my previously comfortable role in the MTV favored demographic. All of a sudden I am receiving horrendous tacky catalogs in the mail, things like Orvis, Smith & Hawken, Marshall Fields, etc. If I should ever receive Lillian Vernon, or perhaps Coldwater Creek or J. Jill, I believe that means I am officially a crone. Oh Jesus, I'm only 25. I'm too young to own a photo lazy susan, to wear caftans, those felt clogs!



A photo of some belated birthday festivities, which happened to coincide with Gay Night, hence Kyan?s glowing visage. The cupcakes were purple with pastel stars sprinkled daintily atop. I am not sure why Lambchop is blowing them out, since it's ostensibly MY birthday; I must have been too busy mincing around demonstrating the hubris of a neophyte chef.

But I did learn one cruel lesson: when Martha says unsalted butter, she really means it. The cupcakes were all hat, no cattle, so to speak.

-xxoo

Posted 2:20 PM by Licketysplit

I've grown accustomed to his face



Nous ne sommes pas les gens qui péché parce que nous péché, nous péché parce que nous sommes les gens qui péché.

(We are not sinners because we sin, we sin because we are sinners.)

Posted 12:31 PM by Licketysplit

les abominations de l'occulte



Contre mon meilleur jugement, je suis devenu impliqué à Ruse raffiné.

(Against my better judgment, I became involved in an elaborate ruse.)

Posted 5:03 PM by Licketysplit