ANYC: 02.05

sherri will be on the food network sometime this week. she decorates cakes in Baltimore. she will be carving a cat out of cake, and wearing a skirt she bought after I dragged her into a Madison church bazaar. That’s my sherri. Carving cake cats & wearing skirts.
Sherri also told me that California is all about good food and good wine. I was lamenting about

eli's homage to tiebaud.

eli's homage to sir paul mc cartney.

did I ever tell you about the time I worked in east Hampton for a summer and couldn't get the nerve to throw a lobster in the pot?

"oh anise - why don't you go get lobsters for everyone?"
kind of how she said "oh anise just make a turkey for tonight's dinner."
done deal.
so I jumped in the Tracker with the dave matthew tape & headed to the fish market.

if dave matthews sponsored an ipod like u2 did, what color would the ipod be?

blue & red, right?

at the fish market. I examined all the kinds of tartar sauces, & wished I could get oysters or bluefish instead. but no. I had to ask for 5 alive lobsters.

I told them to triple bag it with locks & chains. if you know me at all you know that its against my religion to ask for a bag. but I am freaked out by lobster spider legs, and beaty eyes. I was afraid that if a lobster got out of the bag while I was driving, it might just take me down, and drive the car to Montauk so it could crawl back to sea.

whatever this is getting long winded.

I brought the lobsters home and announced to the house & staff that "if anyone wanted lobster for dinner, I will get the kettle ready, but I will not be touching any lobsters or even getting them out of the car. feel free to boil your own lobster."

being an agreeable employee up until that moment, the house was a little shocked. so they did as I said, and I in turn grabbed becky & a bottle from their stash, and we snuck out to the beach.
the end.

he asked me "what are you going to miss the most one month from now?"
All I could think at the time was "you!" Which is true, but seriously I am going to miss impromptu nights like last night.

it's one of those mornings where everyone is late. I am actually a little concerned. but more happy than concerned.

I mean really. one person is here.

the insanely hyper overnight girl needs to drop it a couple notches in order for me to not start vomiting.

it's one of those mornings where I send emails like this:

James -
Nevermind the mess when you get home. Things got a little hairy last night. I'll be around to pick up the mess tomorrow.

tomorrow. saturdays are so delicious. how many times do we tell ourselves and others that we will be around to pick up the mess tomorrow.

and then never follow through. the filth just sitting there.
the slobber drying.
phonecall never made.
underwear changed.

Sofia blanc de blancs. it comes with the worlds coolest straw - expandable & flexible. I served it in frozen wine glasses.

Annie Hall was on mute. scenes we stopped to laugh & recite:
1. Beekman theatre
2. Universe expanding
3. Allison porchnick - me to guest in the kitchen "IT’S THE ALLISON PORCHNICK PART! GET IN HERE!"
4. score coke in LA
5. Paul Simon saying "jack & angelica"
6. Annie & spider.
7. annies dad & his drink.

usually guests make my table look like this

or this

last night my table looked like this.

to me, it looks more lived-in. more like people over the age of 27.
27. The age where you kind of question alcohol.
you've done it. you know what its gonna do.
you are okay with half the room sipping water,
and the other half not smoking.
you talk about commute patterns,
running patterns,
and bush patterns.
You've applied to random jobs & programs,
you're done slobbering on people.
you pass on young parties.
anyway. one night, it snows.
you call. they knock.

Its amusing the things your parents put around the house to remind them of you when you are not home. for instance, blog posts???
exihibit a:

exihibit b:

and then there are the fridge posts. One brother has all his sports photos, one brother had picture magnets made(!) of him drinking beer in various parts of the world.
Kat & Paul made the fridge! The pic is from her tex party. what a night. i look at that and think "well my parents don't need to know all the deets of that night." and then i checked out the brothers fancy photo magnets. upon closer inspection, the front of his shirt is drenched. but again, do we need to know all the deets of his night? guess not. the fact is "hey mom. look. i am with friends and i am smiling."

G-ma & I ended our lunch with a little pina colada (Cuz I’m Not Dying!) while singing “76 Trombones in the hit parade…”
I embellish.
We only made it through the first sentence of that song, before I looked up and noticed a moose was watching my every move so I stopped singing. But by golly if grandma wasn’t ready with that rat-a-tat-tat on the table.

So that was fun. My mom got a little mad that I got into a car with (and I quote) “a drunk driver”…
1 1/2 drinks ma??? Come on. Gma couldn’t finish her colada, and if I remember correctly she didn’t really scrape the bottom of that pre-game Irish coffee. But either way, in my mom’s eyes “she was drunk”.
I survived (whew) the drive with the drunk, and we made it to a town called Sol-dot-na. They have all these ice sculptures around town. I don’t know what to make of the sculptures really, because half of them are melting.

Topics covered during lunch:
1. Aunt Linda called, and said she has a lead on my yellow lab. She said the price was 200. I made a sour face. Then a. linda asked “well what is she going to do if it breaks its leg?” (This question being asked at the height of the drinking binge) So I yell out “I will take it back to a. Lindas place!” and gma was right there with me imitating a 3 legged dog, while I said “here a. Linda, you can have this dog back. Something is wrong with its leg? Well gotta run!”

2. I made a promise that one of my children (bless their poor poor hearts) will address my grandma as “gigi”. Apparently she has always wished that one of her great grand kids address her as “gigi”. I didn’t ask. I just said “well fine. My kid will call you 'gigi'.”

So the family has decided that I am to be buried in my gold converse. They love them more than I do I think & apparently the best part of my “Cuz I’m Not Dying!” story is the part where I spent $110 on gold converse from Barneys.
They really were purchased in that life-is-short fashion. I had been admiring the shoes from afar. And then when I was feeling really grey one day, I took the crosstown bus over to the Westside and got my gold shoes.
If I could have worn them to bed, I would have. I have worn them every day since. They really did work. And now serve as comic relief.
My mom said I need to get them framed. Makes it easy, because they are basically already bronzed! So anyway – I now have the shoe portion of my coffin outfit planned. Thank goodness!

sometimes things get crazy. sometimes things are pretty mellow. I try to shoot for mellow, but all that trying makes crazy get in the way.
I like this song by Ida. Its pretty dang mellow. Its nice to listen to while laying on your bed, hands folded & resting on your torso, right ankle on top of left ankle, light shining in room, eyes fixed on ceiling, no one but you in house.