Okay, let's see.
First and foremost, one of my best friends ever is coming to visit next week. You may remember her; she sang at the wedding. I met her my very first day of college, back in 1977, so I have known her for 33 years. Yes, well more than half of my life. I cannot wait to see her. I'm taking off the whole week (really only four days, because we get off on Monday for the holiday), which will give me time to clean on Tuesday, and then we have most of three days to hang out and sit on the sun porch and drink tea and just talk and talk and talk.
Second, Chuck and I had some intense email exchanges last week, which I hope cleared the air between us a bit and cleared the way for me to see CK again. I have to give him his props: he continues to try to do the right thing, which is all we can ever ask of anyone. I'm still not going to go into detail about any of it here, except to say that I'm glad.
Third, the Crossroads festival was, as expected, quite excellent. The day was very damn long (oh MY how long . . .) and I was about to tip over by the time it was over, but the music was really great. We also managed to stay out of the sun for most of the day, which, given that Friend and I are two of the palest people around, is helpful. Yes, we slather on the sunscreen, but still. We also managed to scam good seats over the course of the day; of the three places we sat, only one was the actual seats on the ticket. The last place--where we sat for the last three hours or so, when the music was even more fab--featured a lot of people with VIP tags as well as a lot of empty seats. The only sour note all day, really, was the fact that this venue had exactly one water fountain. Yes; one. You could BUY water, of course, for $5 a bottle, but can I say no fucking way? At first there was a very long line, but then I think people either gave up and started buying it or started filling their containers in the bathroom sinks (which I kinda doubt, because the water in there was hot--not warm, hot). We, however, being cheap in some ways, saved some plastic beer cups and just refilled those along with the one water bottle we'd snuck in.
Okay, on to the food.
This week's farm share had more garlic scapes, more kohlrabi (to bring the total to three), two beets with greens, a head of lettuce, three mini squash, a little russian kale (those last two, plus some scapes, went into Saturday morning's breakfast scramble), and . . . that might have been it. So yesterday I used up everything: sauteed a chopped onion, then added the garlic scapes (should have waited on those), then the peeled and sliced kohlrabi and a little water, then the sliced mini carrots that needed to be used up, then the sliced beets, and finally the beet greens and some frozen collards (a little bit left in a package). I tossed it with some whole wheat (mostly) pasta and some grated cheese, and we had some grilled wild turkey with it, and it was all good. I threw in a splash of balsamic vinegar, too, and salt and pepper, but that was it for the seasoning. I liked the way the flavors balanced and melded, and it was useful to basically use up all the scraps of vegetables sitting around. In principle I like fresh herbs, but, in practice, I find that it's really, really easy to overwhelm whatever you're cooking with them, so I tend to try to balance the flavors of the other ingredients.
So now I've eaten kohlrabi, and, eh. I mean, it was good and all, but it isn't so good or so distinctive that I would necessarily seek it out, and it doesn't have any special healthy properties, at least not any of which I am aware, and at least not any that, say, broccoli, cauliflower, or cabbage have. (I like the brassica/cruciferous stuff, quite a bit, but I didn't think the kohlrabi was better than any of those three.) I'd eat it again, and I'll likely get the chance with this week's share.
And this season's Top Chef has begun, and, even after two weeks, one person has emerged as a total gaming asshole. Why yes, Angelo, I'm talking about you. Basically, this guy is seriously cocky. He and Tracey won the Quickfire, which meant (a) they had immunity and (b) they could choose the other two people who were going to be on their team for the Elimination Challenge. (Which was that each four-person team had a budget of about $2.60 per kid and had to make a "healthy" lunch for 50 kids--the dollar amount is what most schools have to work with. Some viewers apparently thought it was too preachy, but I was glad to see that theme--and I was completely entertained that Tom's mom was a lunch lady.) Okay, so Angelo and Tracey pick Kenny and Somebody--Kenny being the strongest apparent competition for Angelo at this early stage of the game--to be on their team. This could have been Angelo's way of ensuring that his team won the challenge, but of course Angelo is trying to game the whole system: because he and his partner have immunity, that means if their team loses, the other two people have a greater chance of going home.
So what did Angelo make for his dish? Celery sticks with peanut butter mousse and some kind of tuile. Yes. Celery sticks with peanut butter and a cookie. As a vegetable. The thing is, I think the judges even figured this out, and I do hope this comes back to bite Angelo in the ass. On the Television Without Pity forums, a couple of people who hated various other contestants over the years pointed out that none of those guys would have pulled such a dick move. Seriously, dude; if you think you're all that and a bag of chips, then you should be able to beat anyone else on the show with your actual cooking rather than bullshit games like that.
The other thing that was sort of train-wrecky to watch was the team that had Amanda--the Leah clone--on it. One of the interstitials showed her saying something to the effect that being a team player or taking one for the team wasn't in her vocabulary. Honey, that shit will come back to haunt you at some point. But, more important, (1) one of her teammates was the one who went home, because she made a nasty-ass banana pudding with way too much sugar in it, which she did because there wasn't enough cash in the budget for her original recipe, which included chocolate, and (2) Amanda made chicken thighs with sherry jus. Yes. Alcohol for school children. And a food item that likely broke their fucking budget. (Why did she get to keep her sherry when they were over budget, but Banana Woman had to put back some of her ingredients?) That kind of blew me away. And if I were Amanda, I'd be sending a thank-you note to banana pudding person, because the nastiness of that dish saved Amanda's ass.
I was a little surprised that she went with the banana pudding after she had to change the original conception. And someone on a forum suggested that maybe the bananas weren't quite ripe, which would have explained the trouble she was having with taste and texture. But why stick with that? K and I thought that rice pudding, for example, could have been subbed: brown rice pudding with a swirl of blueberry compote, for example, would have worked just fine, probably been healthier, and surely would have tasted better.
The other thing that that whole thing raised was how the teams split up the budget. Seems to me that you divide the dollar amount in four and negotiate from there. ("Hey, my thing is only going to cost X dollars, leaving me with some extra; who needs it?") It also seems that, if you're going to do something that depends on the condition of the fruit or vegetable, you should have a backup plan. But, hey, it's easy to think these things from my couch, probably harder to do it at Restaurant Depot, when one of the people on your team insists on buying sherry. Still, look at the plate of the team that won: lots more food, and it looks lots more appetizing. I think I want them to make the lunches at my school.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Friday, June 18, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Cooking, Baking
Sometime back in March, kstyle positied that bakers and cooks have fundamentally different temperaments, and she later called on commentary from a friend of hers positing that bakers are more likely to make stews and pots of stuff that you put on the stove to cook for awhile (I'm assuming because of a similar aspect in the form of lots of prep/assembly, and then you let it bake for awhile).
And I've been thinking about that, off and on, and I still don't have a good response to it. There are a few things that I make that are timed, but it's also true that (a) a lot of stuff can cook a little bit longer, or sit a little while, without doing serious damage to it, but (b) I've gotten much better, over the years, of timing my cookihg. For example, Sunday's vegetable medley required that the spinach not go into the pan until just before serving. Baby spinach doesn't need much more than wilting, especially if you want to keep some brightness to the green, so you throw it into whatever you're cooking at the very last second. If I'm throwing it over pasta, for example, I throw it into the strainer, so the boiling pasta water basically cooks it as I strain the pasta.
And--and Brazen Tart, who came over bearing a wonderful poundcake a couple of weeks ago, might be able to testify to this--line cooks have a whole lot of stuff prepared as well. So, for example, I reduced the sauce for the meat, and then it just sat on the stove, heat off, until we were ready to eat. I might have rewarmed it just a touch if it needed it, or I might even have saved a tiny bit of butter to put into it as I reheated it (neither of which I did this time, but have done in the past), but it was done. If the grill took more or less time, no matter.
I think what really makes a big difference is that sense of timing. I used to be moderately good at it, purely from throwing a lot of dinner parties as well as cooking at home a lot; I'd have the leisure to plan things out ahead of time, or I would make enough stuff by myself so that I'd just sort of know how long something was going to take. But working at the bakery kicked it up several levels, not surprisingly, and I don't even think about it as I do it.
For example, when Friend makes banana bread, it takes him quite a while to do so. He hasn't done all that much baking (though he HAS made a lot of stews), which I think makes a difference. When I make it--and we use different recipes, I might add--I zip through it. We each have found a recipe we like, and we have each made our own recipe (in our own respective kitchens) multiple times, so it's not even a difference in familiarity with a particular recipe or tools. It's just . . . I've done something LIKE this hundreds or maybe even thousands of times in my life, and I had a job for two years that honed whatever skills I brought to the table. Of course I'm going to be faster at it--I'd better be.
So the two factors that are relevant, IMHO, are timing (and one's ability to work within timing constraints) and where the prep work and/or tweaking come in.
Or something.
I'm actually quite tired, and making an active (though obviousy not entirely successful) effort to write about something other than work. Tomorrow will feature another heinous financial meeting, and I am tired of it before it even begins. But, whatevs. I had a fabulous dinner last night, I'm going to get some work done around the house this weekend (including laundry, damnit), and summer is just about here. And I'm sitting on my sun porch, with the windows open (though it's dark, so I can't see anything), listening to summer and cars pass by. Pretty damned good.
And I've been thinking about that, off and on, and I still don't have a good response to it. There are a few things that I make that are timed, but it's also true that (a) a lot of stuff can cook a little bit longer, or sit a little while, without doing serious damage to it, but (b) I've gotten much better, over the years, of timing my cookihg. For example, Sunday's vegetable medley required that the spinach not go into the pan until just before serving. Baby spinach doesn't need much more than wilting, especially if you want to keep some brightness to the green, so you throw it into whatever you're cooking at the very last second. If I'm throwing it over pasta, for example, I throw it into the strainer, so the boiling pasta water basically cooks it as I strain the pasta.
And--and Brazen Tart, who came over bearing a wonderful poundcake a couple of weeks ago, might be able to testify to this--line cooks have a whole lot of stuff prepared as well. So, for example, I reduced the sauce for the meat, and then it just sat on the stove, heat off, until we were ready to eat. I might have rewarmed it just a touch if it needed it, or I might even have saved a tiny bit of butter to put into it as I reheated it (neither of which I did this time, but have done in the past), but it was done. If the grill took more or less time, no matter.
I think what really makes a big difference is that sense of timing. I used to be moderately good at it, purely from throwing a lot of dinner parties as well as cooking at home a lot; I'd have the leisure to plan things out ahead of time, or I would make enough stuff by myself so that I'd just sort of know how long something was going to take. But working at the bakery kicked it up several levels, not surprisingly, and I don't even think about it as I do it.
For example, when Friend makes banana bread, it takes him quite a while to do so. He hasn't done all that much baking (though he HAS made a lot of stews), which I think makes a difference. When I make it--and we use different recipes, I might add--I zip through it. We each have found a recipe we like, and we have each made our own recipe (in our own respective kitchens) multiple times, so it's not even a difference in familiarity with a particular recipe or tools. It's just . . . I've done something LIKE this hundreds or maybe even thousands of times in my life, and I had a job for two years that honed whatever skills I brought to the table. Of course I'm going to be faster at it--I'd better be.
So the two factors that are relevant, IMHO, are timing (and one's ability to work within timing constraints) and where the prep work and/or tweaking come in.
Or something.
I'm actually quite tired, and making an active (though obviousy not entirely successful) effort to write about something other than work. Tomorrow will feature another heinous financial meeting, and I am tired of it before it even begins. But, whatevs. I had a fabulous dinner last night, I'm going to get some work done around the house this weekend (including laundry, damnit), and summer is just about here. And I'm sitting on my sun porch, with the windows open (though it's dark, so I can't see anything), listening to summer and cars pass by. Pretty damned good.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Our Friend the Turnip
I have apparently lost the will to exercise. I find this rather disturbing, and the rational brain lectures me that I Will Feel Better If I Just Exercise Already, and harrumphs and rolls its eyes, but it makes no progress in getting the rest of me to put on the workout clothes and get on the rowing machine, even if for only a little while. I imagine it has something to do with the huge stress machine that work has become, and I most assuredly wish I could Do Something About It, but whatevs. Sooner or later I'll figure it out, I suppose. I rather wish it would be sooner rather than later, so I could fit back into some of my clothes.
Meanwhile, the farm share adventure is underway. I've had turnips the past two weeks (along with a buttload of lettuce, some kale the week before last, some strawberries, a teensy bit of broccoli, and more lettuce), which I had never cooked before. This week's experiment turned out somewhat better: I chopped an onion, cooked it in some olive oil and butter, then threw in the three sliced turnips and also added a sliced/chopped up apple. I sauteed that for awhile, then had to turn it off so I could run to the store for some fresh garlic. I added a couple of pressed cloves of garlic when I returned, along with some chopped up chicken/tomato/basil sausages. Meanwhile, there was kamut cooking on a back burner (only soaked for an hour or so, rather than the recommended six), onions caramelized on another burner, and some red wine and leftover berries (blue and straw) and their juices reducing in the onion pan. When the venison went on the grill, I threw in the spinach I'd gotten at the store with the garlic (I'd originally intended to use some frozen collards in there, in addition to the turnip greens, but decided that might be more bitter greens than I really wanted) so it had just enough time to wilt. The sauce ended up taking about a teaspoon of honey, because it was just slightly too sour/bitter, and the sauce, though good, still ended up slightly overwhelming the venison. The venison ring bologna--which is way too salty for my tastes--could stand up to the sauce, however.
The turnip thing was served over the kamut. The verdict? The turnip thing was quite tasty; better than last week's attempt, likely because I let the turnips cook a little longer. The sweetness of the apples and the spice of the sausage really went well with the turnips and greens. The kamut? Eh. It was okay, but nothing special. I like farro and barley much better, because both have more flavor to them.
I've also been eating a whole lot of salads; I grate a carrot in there, and throw in a handful of dried cherries, nuts, pine nuts, and/or grated cheese. Tonight I got some more carrots and salad dressing, so I grabbed some little tomatos for this week's eating. I try not to make it the 4,000-calorie salad, but a bowl of lettuce with nothing else in it is really not going to work for me.
This week's farm batch, arriving tomorrow morning, includes lettuce, cabbage, kale, kohlrabi, and garlic scapes; I've never eaten either of the last two, so more adventures to be had there. I found a recipe for roasted butternut squash and kohlrabi, and I have one more squash left over from last fall, so I think I'll try that. Garlic scapes I'll probably either throw in the salads or throw in the kohlrabi thing or cook with the cabbage somehow. Clearly I've been eating extensively from the brassica/cruciferous food groups.
All in all, I think the boxes are a little bit small, but it's early in the season. It is forcing me to live on a lot of vegetation, however, which is probably a good thing, particularly with the exercise aversion I'm currently experiencing.
As noted above, work is wildly stressful lately. Yeah, I know that I say that all the time; it just keeps feeling like it ratchets up without every ratcheting down. At the moment, for example, one of our major funding agencies is completely peevish at us, because we haven't turned in a bunch of data reports. On one hand, their data requests are never-ending, and excessive, and a complete pain--but they're they funders, so they get to request whatever the fuck they want. On a second hand, however, our data person can be a bit of a challenge to work with, and I'm getting rather tired of that. So I end up caught between, with both the source of data and the requester of data pissed off at me.
What's starting to happen, though, is that I have so many things on fire on my desk I just don't give a shit any more. Each day I try to focus on getting a couple of things done, and I do them, and the rest of the stuff will just have to fucking wait. You're pissed off at me too? Get the fuck in line. I know what your request is, and it's on my list, but I cannot get to it just yet.
And our budget this year is going to be a huge fucking challenge. Is our financial person helping us at all? No; no s/he is not. S/he sends finger-waving emails, and expressions of concern, but no actual helpful advice or analysis, and I am really fucking tired of that, too. The latest suggestion, today, was another useless bit of twaddle that does not seem to encompass any understanding at all of how our program works or the financial constraints we face. If I can carve out some time before yet another Big Meeting on Friday, I am going to do a line-by-line analysis of our budget, taking care to point out just how many expenses are out of our control and/or determined by Downtown.
I wish I had more time to enjoy my condo, too; even that ends up being stressful sometimes, largely because of my own craziness. I really don't have very much furniture, but I am absolutely determined to get it a little at a time, rather than blow all of my savings. And there's a whole room--the second bedroom, and the closet in there--that has a whole lot of crap in it, stuff that I have jammed in the closet, or not sorted, or whatever, and I do not, not, not have the energy to do that. Remember the tile-making class? Well, I did make one tile--and then never got my ass over to the school to pick it up, meaning it has probably been destroyed by now. Again, completely my own fault; I'd finish a long day at work and just not feel like taking an extra hour and a half to get home (taking into account the trip to the school and then home).
Whine, whine, whine.
Mostly, despite all of this whining, I'm hanging in there. Someday I want to find the energy for blog posts about something other than what I made for dinner and the sucky things that are happening somewhere in my life. My mood is much better than all of this complaining would lead you to believe. Maybe I'll just stick to food blogging for awhile . . .
Meanwhile, the farm share adventure is underway. I've had turnips the past two weeks (along with a buttload of lettuce, some kale the week before last, some strawberries, a teensy bit of broccoli, and more lettuce), which I had never cooked before. This week's experiment turned out somewhat better: I chopped an onion, cooked it in some olive oil and butter, then threw in the three sliced turnips and also added a sliced/chopped up apple. I sauteed that for awhile, then had to turn it off so I could run to the store for some fresh garlic. I added a couple of pressed cloves of garlic when I returned, along with some chopped up chicken/tomato/basil sausages. Meanwhile, there was kamut cooking on a back burner (only soaked for an hour or so, rather than the recommended six), onions caramelized on another burner, and some red wine and leftover berries (blue and straw) and their juices reducing in the onion pan. When the venison went on the grill, I threw in the spinach I'd gotten at the store with the garlic (I'd originally intended to use some frozen collards in there, in addition to the turnip greens, but decided that might be more bitter greens than I really wanted) so it had just enough time to wilt. The sauce ended up taking about a teaspoon of honey, because it was just slightly too sour/bitter, and the sauce, though good, still ended up slightly overwhelming the venison. The venison ring bologna--which is way too salty for my tastes--could stand up to the sauce, however.
The turnip thing was served over the kamut. The verdict? The turnip thing was quite tasty; better than last week's attempt, likely because I let the turnips cook a little longer. The sweetness of the apples and the spice of the sausage really went well with the turnips and greens. The kamut? Eh. It was okay, but nothing special. I like farro and barley much better, because both have more flavor to them.
I've also been eating a whole lot of salads; I grate a carrot in there, and throw in a handful of dried cherries, nuts, pine nuts, and/or grated cheese. Tonight I got some more carrots and salad dressing, so I grabbed some little tomatos for this week's eating. I try not to make it the 4,000-calorie salad, but a bowl of lettuce with nothing else in it is really not going to work for me.
This week's farm batch, arriving tomorrow morning, includes lettuce, cabbage, kale, kohlrabi, and garlic scapes; I've never eaten either of the last two, so more adventures to be had there. I found a recipe for roasted butternut squash and kohlrabi, and I have one more squash left over from last fall, so I think I'll try that. Garlic scapes I'll probably either throw in the salads or throw in the kohlrabi thing or cook with the cabbage somehow. Clearly I've been eating extensively from the brassica/cruciferous food groups.
All in all, I think the boxes are a little bit small, but it's early in the season. It is forcing me to live on a lot of vegetation, however, which is probably a good thing, particularly with the exercise aversion I'm currently experiencing.
As noted above, work is wildly stressful lately. Yeah, I know that I say that all the time; it just keeps feeling like it ratchets up without every ratcheting down. At the moment, for example, one of our major funding agencies is completely peevish at us, because we haven't turned in a bunch of data reports. On one hand, their data requests are never-ending, and excessive, and a complete pain--but they're they funders, so they get to request whatever the fuck they want. On a second hand, however, our data person can be a bit of a challenge to work with, and I'm getting rather tired of that. So I end up caught between, with both the source of data and the requester of data pissed off at me.
What's starting to happen, though, is that I have so many things on fire on my desk I just don't give a shit any more. Each day I try to focus on getting a couple of things done, and I do them, and the rest of the stuff will just have to fucking wait. You're pissed off at me too? Get the fuck in line. I know what your request is, and it's on my list, but I cannot get to it just yet.
And our budget this year is going to be a huge fucking challenge. Is our financial person helping us at all? No; no s/he is not. S/he sends finger-waving emails, and expressions of concern, but no actual helpful advice or analysis, and I am really fucking tired of that, too. The latest suggestion, today, was another useless bit of twaddle that does not seem to encompass any understanding at all of how our program works or the financial constraints we face. If I can carve out some time before yet another Big Meeting on Friday, I am going to do a line-by-line analysis of our budget, taking care to point out just how many expenses are out of our control and/or determined by Downtown.
I wish I had more time to enjoy my condo, too; even that ends up being stressful sometimes, largely because of my own craziness. I really don't have very much furniture, but I am absolutely determined to get it a little at a time, rather than blow all of my savings. And there's a whole room--the second bedroom, and the closet in there--that has a whole lot of crap in it, stuff that I have jammed in the closet, or not sorted, or whatever, and I do not, not, not have the energy to do that. Remember the tile-making class? Well, I did make one tile--and then never got my ass over to the school to pick it up, meaning it has probably been destroyed by now. Again, completely my own fault; I'd finish a long day at work and just not feel like taking an extra hour and a half to get home (taking into account the trip to the school and then home).
Whine, whine, whine.
Mostly, despite all of this whining, I'm hanging in there. Someday I want to find the energy for blog posts about something other than what I made for dinner and the sucky things that are happening somewhere in my life. My mood is much better than all of this complaining would lead you to believe. Maybe I'll just stick to food blogging for awhile . . .
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Salad Days
The first share included three bunches/kinds of lettuce (was supposed to be four, I think), a wad of Russian kale, a wad of spinach, a teensy little bit of broccoli, and four or five hakurei turnips with greens attached (the only thing in the box I haven't had, I think). Although I'm paying to have the stuff delivered to my door, it didn't work out for yesterday (long boring story), so I picked the box up from a local natural foods store that serves as a drop-off for other people (i.e., it wasn't really out of the way for the delivery person), and got some salad dressing and two boxes of strawberries that look pretty spectacular. (I would have gotten a flat of them, except I had to haul everything on the bus, number one, and, number two, I think I'm going to be getting strawberries in my share next week.)
Normally I am not a Salad Person. I like salad well enough, but I find it to be a pain to buy, wash, prepare, etc., so I tend to avoid making my own. But, hey, three kinds of lettuce, and I have some carrots and dried fruit, and even some raw onion if I feel really adventurous, and there's lunch. And then some strawberries and pineapple for breakfast--there's health breaking out all over the damn place. Except for the part where I could not, not, not get myself to work out tonight. I wanted to, I meant to, but the flesh was completely unwilling, despite the ever-increasing amounts of said flesh.
The six days off in a row were pretty fabulous; they could have been more fabulous only if (a) there were more of them and (b) I didn't have several shitstorms on my desk and in my email when I got back today. I managed to stem the tide on one and repair the levee on another, but I basically have a huge wad of things to do in about two weeks. The new fiscal year starts July 1, and I get a little urpy thinking about the things that really, truly must be done before that time.
Then I turn on a hockey game (go hawks!) and have a beer and forget about it, at least until I get to my desk again.
Speaking of hockey, I've been keeping half an eye on the ticket possibilities, on the off chance that something turns up on Ticketbastard at the last moment. That shows no signs of happening of course. So occasionally I wander over to the resale sites--there's one that Ticketbastard runs, plus craigslist, plus a couple of the other big ones--and it's kind of laughable. At this point, the cheapest ticket for the next Hawks home game, if it occurs, is about $800. Others are going for $4000 or more (lots more) per ticket, and seats on the glass are going for more than $11,000 per ticket.
Which guarantees that I will not be purchasing a ticket for the game. And, if you want to know, it kinda grosses me out. If you had those seats, wouldn't you want to use them? And if you couldn't use them, okay, I can see getting a little more than your money back, but do you have any friends who might enjoy and appreciate them and would even pay face value? I guess, for really good seats, I can see doubling the face value. But the prices listed are just greedy and nuts, and, if I were the kind of person who really believed in karma, I'd think that that kind of markup is a good way to gin up some seriously bad karma. I'm sure there are all kinds of extenuating circumstances--you just happened to find a ticket laying in the gutter, and your house is being foreclosed, so you're going to use the money to put a roof over the heads of your kids--but short of that? No.
And I have to wonder who's willing to pay that money. I mean seriously: it surely isn't the everyday fans who sit in the 300 level, and it isn't the guys who have been following the team for years and years. It's the people who have to see and be seen, I suppose. But WTF do I know? I don't travel in those circles and never will.
It reminds me of what I was thinking about shoes today. (Huh??) No; stick with me for a minute. There are three rough levels of shoes: the completely cheap shoes that are going to fall apart and/or hurt your feet (but may be all that many people can afford); the somewhat-better-made shoes that are going to last awhile but may not be "fashion forward," as they say; and then the really expensive shoes. There are some that are really expensive because they are handmade or something, I suppose, but mostly it seems that people are buying the brand name and the fashionability; they're no longer buying something to wear on their feet to protect themselves from having to walk barefoot, they're using their feet for display purposes. And that's the part that always seems bizarre to me. Don't get me wrong, I like Nice Stuff, up to a point, and I've learned that, with many things, you do, indeed, get what you pay for, so I'll pay, and get, a little (or a lot) more when I can afford to do so, but what I'm buying isn't someone's name on my feet and, as everyone I know can testify, I am not exactly a fashionable person.
Anyway, I could babble on for longer, but I'm also, increasingly, not exactly an awake person, so it's off to bed with me.
Normally I am not a Salad Person. I like salad well enough, but I find it to be a pain to buy, wash, prepare, etc., so I tend to avoid making my own. But, hey, three kinds of lettuce, and I have some carrots and dried fruit, and even some raw onion if I feel really adventurous, and there's lunch. And then some strawberries and pineapple for breakfast--there's health breaking out all over the damn place. Except for the part where I could not, not, not get myself to work out tonight. I wanted to, I meant to, but the flesh was completely unwilling, despite the ever-increasing amounts of said flesh.
The six days off in a row were pretty fabulous; they could have been more fabulous only if (a) there were more of them and (b) I didn't have several shitstorms on my desk and in my email when I got back today. I managed to stem the tide on one and repair the levee on another, but I basically have a huge wad of things to do in about two weeks. The new fiscal year starts July 1, and I get a little urpy thinking about the things that really, truly must be done before that time.
Then I turn on a hockey game (go hawks!) and have a beer and forget about it, at least until I get to my desk again.
Speaking of hockey, I've been keeping half an eye on the ticket possibilities, on the off chance that something turns up on Ticketbastard at the last moment. That shows no signs of happening of course. So occasionally I wander over to the resale sites--there's one that Ticketbastard runs, plus craigslist, plus a couple of the other big ones--and it's kind of laughable. At this point, the cheapest ticket for the next Hawks home game, if it occurs, is about $800. Others are going for $4000 or more (lots more) per ticket, and seats on the glass are going for more than $11,000 per ticket.
Which guarantees that I will not be purchasing a ticket for the game. And, if you want to know, it kinda grosses me out. If you had those seats, wouldn't you want to use them? And if you couldn't use them, okay, I can see getting a little more than your money back, but do you have any friends who might enjoy and appreciate them and would even pay face value? I guess, for really good seats, I can see doubling the face value. But the prices listed are just greedy and nuts, and, if I were the kind of person who really believed in karma, I'd think that that kind of markup is a good way to gin up some seriously bad karma. I'm sure there are all kinds of extenuating circumstances--you just happened to find a ticket laying in the gutter, and your house is being foreclosed, so you're going to use the money to put a roof over the heads of your kids--but short of that? No.
And I have to wonder who's willing to pay that money. I mean seriously: it surely isn't the everyday fans who sit in the 300 level, and it isn't the guys who have been following the team for years and years. It's the people who have to see and be seen, I suppose. But WTF do I know? I don't travel in those circles and never will.
It reminds me of what I was thinking about shoes today. (Huh??) No; stick with me for a minute. There are three rough levels of shoes: the completely cheap shoes that are going to fall apart and/or hurt your feet (but may be all that many people can afford); the somewhat-better-made shoes that are going to last awhile but may not be "fashion forward," as they say; and then the really expensive shoes. There are some that are really expensive because they are handmade or something, I suppose, but mostly it seems that people are buying the brand name and the fashionability; they're no longer buying something to wear on their feet to protect themselves from having to walk barefoot, they're using their feet for display purposes. And that's the part that always seems bizarre to me. Don't get me wrong, I like Nice Stuff, up to a point, and I've learned that, with many things, you do, indeed, get what you pay for, so I'll pay, and get, a little (or a lot) more when I can afford to do so, but what I'm buying isn't someone's name on my feet and, as everyone I know can testify, I am not exactly a fashionable person.
Anyway, I could babble on for longer, but I'm also, increasingly, not exactly an awake person, so it's off to bed with me.
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