Ode to my random mind

I don't have ADD. But I do find my attention is grabbed by all sorts of articles and things I run across in my daily internet travels.

For instance:

- David Cross wrote an article about how to properly approach a celebrity. It's funny 'cause it's true.

- Blogger manages to swap a paper clip for a house via a series of ever-increasing trades. Pretty cool. I'm admiring his moxie. I guess all you need is one good idea? One that no one else has had? Seems like it sometimes.

- Time magazine has an article about the voice of this generation. Do you really have a generation if there isn't an event that defines you or separates you from other generations? I'm not sure I feel a part of any generation. Turns out that several of the names they suggest as "The Voice" are more my parents' generation. I've read Wallace and Foer, and Chabon and Franzen are a couple of my favorite writers, but it's odd to think of them as representing "my people."

- PaperbackSwap could be cool. I have A TON of books lying around (which I do, in my defense, re-read from time to time), and they could probably do some good out in the world. It reminds me of Book Crossing, which I used to be quite into when I lived in Berkeley.

- Mom/Sar/Phil can go vote in the Best of Atlanta awards. I wish I lived there (or visited more often) so I could vote too!

- My children are going to wear muumuus. They can pick the color, but...big, body-concealing muumuus. YES.

Oh, and I promise to do a post all about my impromptu Las Vegas trip soon, just as soon as my partners-in-bachelorette-partying float me some pictures (my camera batteries crapped out shortly into my visit). Tide yourselves over with this for now:



From left we have: Carmen's friends Marnie, Jocelyn, and Caroline; the bride-to-be herself, Carmen; shiny big-armed me; Empress Decolletage Sara.

Berry good times? Eat, drink, and be berry? I can't decide.

Whether you spent your holiday writing lame/awesome blog posts or watching fireworks at Stooooone Mountain, I hope you had a fabulous fourth. Personally, I was quite active this holiday weekend...up until my evening of gluttony on the 4th.

Saturday: Went for a run, then had brunch with Josh's family and some of his visiting relatives. Stopped by the USA vs. Barbados rugby game over at Stanford, where we watched the home team soundly beat the opposition. We headed home to do our regular first-Sat-of-the-month car rallye with the Veltman parents. I think we actually did rather well, despite unanticipated Lego-related delays.

Sunday: The most mellow day of the vacation. Exercise and smoothies to start the day, followed by a visit to Costco and the batting cages. I know my hits aren't particularly powerful when I just use my upper body, but I'm less accurate when I swing through fully. I get a bit frustrated by putting a lot into the swing and not connecting with the ball one bit. Alas! I guess practice will need to occur. To the batting cages, Robin! Speaking of sidekicks...I watched the glorious high-quality early-'90's film of the same name on Sunday night. Josh and I are pretty sure we saw a fist come out from behind Chuck Norris' beard at one point. True story.

Monday: Picnic! I don't know why, but eating outdoors on the ground is one of my favorite things. It's fun to slather on the sunscreen and consume as you commune with nature. A sandwich from Eric's (smoked pepper turkey with jack cheese, lettuce, cucumbers, and salt/pepper on a whole wheat role--DIVINE), a blanket, and a book, and I'm one happy luncher. We also tossed around a baseball and discovered I do not like to catch ground balls, as apparently I have a bizarre paranoia about the ball banging my shins or bouncing up and breaking my glasses. Later we played tennis with Josh's friends Andy and Meredith, which most certainly did not result in much hysterical laughter and inaccurate shots by me.

We also went to see Superman Returns, which I have so many thoughts about that I'll devote a whole post to it later.

Tuesday: Berry picking! Fortified with bagels, Josh and I had a picturesque drive over to Pescadero, where Phipps Ranch is located. It's olallieberry season, and we had wholesome fun picking out some dark, delicious beauties for pie and ice cream. Observe the process. Respect the effort. Enjoy the results!

Step 1: Pick berries. It was sort of cold and cloudy, but the weather improved as we filled our buckets.







See? Full bucket! I don't have the best idea as to what constitutes a good olallieberry. Basically, if it's dark in color and comes off the vine easily, I think it's ready for consumption. I think our lack of berry expertise resulted in some semi-tart berries, but they were tasty nonetheless.






Step 2: Wash!
Step 3: Add sugar, a thickening agent, and creme de cassis. Stir until it gets a bit thicker and tastes goooood.






Step 4: Using pre-made pie crust (if you happen to have one lying around, which the ever-resourceful Veltman family does), dump the berries into a pie pan. Expertly do some finger crimps around the edges if you are competent like Susan. If you aren't, move on to...



Step 5: Covering and beautification! Cut out some sort of pretty/functional decoration on the top of the pie crust. It goes a long way towards making it look like you knew what you were doing all along.




Step 6: Bake. Then feast your eyes (and lips) on this marvel! A nice shade, and the cut-out pieces on top remarkably managed to keep their shape.





I didn't actually eat any of the pie, as I was too busy stuffing my face with brownies, but I have it on good authority that it was quite delectable. (Josh made olallieberry ice cream too, but I lack photos of that process.)

Thanks to the success of our culinary exploits (and to the Veltman's as-always stellar menu offerings), it was quite a lovely Fourth of July. Sole disappointment of the weekend? That I didn't get to hang out with Abbey before she jets off to Kentucky for a couple weeks. Quel domage!

New Orleans: Part the Second

I've been bad with the posting. Bad me. How will you all know what's going on in my life if I don't tell you, in excrutiating pictorial detail?

So here, belated as it is, we go:

We arrived late Wednesday afternoon to a veritable sauna. The weather felt, as Josh is fond of saying, like a slap in the face. We rolled up to Le Richelieu Hotel in the French Quarter, where we stayed for the first two nights at Mom's recommendation. Not the swankiest place, but a clean, well-located, atmospheric bargain with friendly staff and a signed picture of Vince Vaughn in the concierge's office. Good by me!


We had a pretty mellow first evening, eating and strolling past Cafe du Monde and Jackson Square. No beignets that first day, but the smell from even a couple hundred feet away was intoxicating. We bumped into a nice older couple who were also in town for ALA as we had an early dinner and had a nice chat with them. (Over the weekend the city became quite inundated with middle-aged, somewhat-square library ladies--nice but surreal!)


On Thursday we went on a swamp tour about 45 minutes away. It was on the drive to the swamp that we saw the most Katrina-related destruction: shopping centers broken up and empty, buildings demolished, houses lifted and moved far away, rubble stacked in huge piles. After sobering thoughts on the road there, the tour itself was quite lighthearted and informative, led by our rotund, jovial, anecdote-spewing guide Ben. Ben educated us about how alligators like marshmallows (they mistake them for avian eggs) and how about the history of the foliage in the swamp. And no, we did not see a nutria.


Post-tour, afflicted with low blood pressure, we headed to Cafe du Monde. My energy level is clearly not at an all-time high as a result of the heat. However, my new bangs are surprisingly resilient.


After my first revelatory bite of beignets, I couldn't help but feel that all was right with the world. After Josh's afternoon nap (a habit during our time in NO, since it was so stinkin' sweltering), we headed to another of my mom's recommendations, Irene's, a charming and not very touristy Italian joint with some funky decor and delicious food. We stuffed ourselves with pasta and the fatally tasty tiramisu. Sweet waiters and great for the sweet tooth.


On Friday we breakfasted on beignets, then headed over to the swanky work-funded hotel - posh and modern, but without the New Orleans flair of Le Richelieu. We went for a long walk, debated going on a steamboat cruise, but settled for hanging out at the aquarium for a while. It sure felt mighty nice and cool in there. But seriously, what is up with jellyfish? How are they alive? How do they consume or locomote or do anything? They are the bizarrest creatures. After our encounter with the denizens of the sea, Maverick and I headed back to the hotel for his daily nap.


Later that night we went to the local casino where I did my first-ever gambling before the oppressive second-hand smoke forced us back to the hotel. We had a decadent room-service dinner and dessert, including some desperate mini-bar raiding of beverages. (Canada Dry in mini-bottles is possibly the most satisfying beverage ever.)

On Saturday Josh had to work for a spell in the morning. Left to my own devices I did...what else...a stop by Cafe du Monde. I carted my bounty over to Jackson Square, where I had a lovely time people-watching, reading, and generally dousing myself with powdered sugar. I also went in a few shops (including a failed attempt to visit Mom's dream ring) but resisted buying anything. I got a delightfully authentic New Orleans Experience when, around, noon, the bells of the chapel in Jackson Square began to ring, then a wedding party poured out of the church. As the pretty young bride and dapper military-attired groom took pictures outside, a brass band began to play lovely old tunes like "You Are My Sunshine." Just perfect.


The rest of Saturday we wandered around the partially-deserted Riverwalk Mall, napped (JV), read (JB) and had dinner at a nearby hotel where we observed a perhaps-seven-months-pregnant woman order and drink two glasses of wine, to our horror.

All in all, it was a fun (if short) visit, and we were quite done in by the heat. I'd like to go back some time in the future, maybe with a larger group, for proper debauchery and when everything's up and running. (The St. Charles streetcar, for example, was out of operation.) My one regret? Not stopping by for final beignets on my way to the airport on Sunday morning.

Yeah, I've got my priorities in order. :-)