…beyond nice.

I just realized I haven’t talked about my weekend partying much in my blog anymore. From reading the last few posts, it seems like all I do for fun is get immunized. I had assumed saying, “Well, this last weekend, I got blasted again…yeah good times…” might get old quick, but I’m thinking, “And then I went and got another shot” gets old faster. I mean, I’m assuming when I’m 80, I will not be sitting around with my friends talking about how this one time at an orientation, I got tuberculosis tested. That’s just my haunch; based on conversations with my past self, I’ve been known to be completely wrong in predicting what my future self will like.

Last Saturday was my friend, James’ 31st birthday luau, the thing started at 12 and I showed up around 4 with a bottle of Rumplemintz because dirty drinks were suggested to put him over the edge.

There were definitely a good number of people there when I arrived, and based on the number of friendly man-hugs going around, some of them were tipsy.
There was a wide selection of hard alcohol and a keg of Bud Lite, and since it’s been so long since I’ve operated a keg, I figured cheap beer had to be the opener. I drank some beer and chatted with some of the guys when I noticed some of them were sporting a very fashionable tiki-mask-painted shot-glass on a string. I inquired on where I might obtain said item when this guy, Matthew, explained to me that they were out, but he would share his with me and that we would pass ownership of the necklace every hour. Soon as the necklace slipped over my neck, he said, “Oh, and you have to take a shot if someone else wearing a necklace needs a shot buddy. And you should start by taking a shot of this tequila.”
I wandered around a bit when Matthew came back and said, “They’re doing a round of shots, here’s some Jack Daniel.” I protested because I really hate the taste of JD, but I’m a sucker for sweet smiling guys and I’m at a friend’s luau…so the shot went down with a shudder.

Some hour and a half and more JDs, a couple Rumplemintz and a couple variety other, I wrestled the necklace back on the original owner and ran off all giddy like with my cheap beer.
I hung out and partied until 10, but with the crappy Seattle weather, it got cold and I was getting restless, so I figured it was time to head back to the city. A lot of people brought tents to camp out because the party was held at a friend’s lakefront property out in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t want to camp because I’ve seen slasher flicks with with a less ideal setting than a bunch of drunk people stumbling around in the dark next to a lake named Desire – plus as a city party girl, I was way overdue to move onto the next bar.
When I got back to the city, I met up with Jesse and friends. Soon as I arrived, the men being such gentlemen offered to get me a drink which I declined, telling them I’ll be right back. As I was heading to the bar, Jesse followed me from a distance, so I turned and shouted, “You know, I can actually afford a drink.” He smiles and continues following with, “Well, I figured you might need company at the bar.” I was going to explain to him how girls never lack company at the bar if they actually wanted one but I didn’t feel like shouting back again, so when I got to the bar, I turned to one of the guys, and said, “I want to fuck you tonight.” Jesse got close enough, heard that, got my point, and turned back.
The bar was packed and I definitely could use some friendly banter while waiting for the bartender to take my order. The guy I spoke to, looked me up and down nervously, turned to whisper something to his friend, his friend checked me out, smiled and patted him on the back and walked off. The guy turned back to me and asked, “I’m part some kind of bet aren’t I?” I smiled and told him, “No, no, we’re not that bored, however, I don’t plan to sleep with you, but now that I have your attention, I could use some company while I’m waiting for my drink.” He started smiling, “I figured it was too good to be true, but thanks for saying it anyways. Girls like you never say stuff like that to me.” The guy wasn’t unattractive or anything, but he’s kind of your average Joe, so I guess the average horny ladies don’t pounce that type of guys. He was absolutely sweet and kept me company until the bartender worked his way over to me. I ordered myself a drink and bought the guy another of whatever beer he was drinking, he looked so delighted you’d think I just blew him at the bar.  I adore how simple men are sometimes.  There were times when I’m doing a shot alone at the bar (because my sister and girlfriends are cheap dates), and to me, shots are like group hugs, hugging yourself in the corner is just kind of sad, so I would usually point to whichever guy next to me and ask him if he wants to do a shot.  The guy would always look a little confused, but say yeah.  I would buy us the shots and we shoot it, and the guy would always look like I just blew him…like this is the story they will tell their friends at 80.  Like I said, I adore men for their simplicity, it’s just nice to know that they don’t ask for a lot to be pleased.  That’s something to be appreciated.

When I got back to my group, Jesse laughed, shook his head and said, “I can’t believe you just said that to the guy!” I smirked and said, “I can’t believe you can’t believe I just said that. One would think you’d just met me.”

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Today, after months of my complaining, I got to attend the volunteer orientation at Harborview Hospital which only brings me yet another small step closer to being able to volunteer there. I made a blog posts a while back about how I shouldn’t joke about getting many shots because it came true (have i mentioned how funny it would be if i won ten million dollars? because that would be damned hilarious), and then being the snarky sass-mouth that I am, I went ahead and made more jokes about it. Today, during the orientation, they went over our immunization record individually with a nurse, and the nurse looked at my chart said, “Good, good…give me your hand.” Stab! Another shot! I had expected at least one more shot to fill the third of my series of Hep B shots, but this was completely unexpected. Apparently, they needed volunteers to be tested for tuberculosis less than 6 weeks before volunteering, so the shot that I got 2-3 months ago for the application was to have some extra tickle in my arm.
There were about 25 of us volunteers there, we went around introduced ourselves and talked about why we’re volunteering at Harborview. Everyone there except for one other person and I were not pre-med students who needed this to look good on their med school applications. I can see why only people that need this would volunteer for it, because it’s really a commitment and a half with all the needs for shots, hospital procedure/safety training, and set 4 hours per week. I previously volunteered for a local homeless men’s shelter and that was kind of a come and go as you please thing. The reason why I’m volunteering is because I enjoy giving something back to the community, it fulfills some kind of spiritual need in me…unfortunately volunteering at the men’s shelter wasn’t doing it for me (not to mention it was encouraging homeless people to call their homies from out-of-state to come here because Seattle people are so nice), so I thought working at a hospital might be nice. So far, it seems like my spiritual need is getting myself stabbed full of holes.

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Conversation from lunch yesterday:

Coworker: Was that you I saw driving around in a tiny VW filled with plants?
Me: Yes, are you stalking me?
Coworker: Who are you? That’s the most un-Champagne-like behavior I can think of.
Me: Well, I’m renting my friend’s place until I find a condo to buy, so now that I sort of have my own place I feel like I should fill it up with plants.
Coworker: Yes, but I expect the Champagne I know of to roll down the streets with a dead deer strapped to the hood of her truck, not drive around in a tiny car exploding with plants.  I had to do a double take.

I had to explain to him that all bets are off the day I became a vegetarian. There are still days when I think about where I came from and I’m baffled by how I got here. On more than one occasion, when the subject of my carnivorous ways would come up with friends that I haven’t seen since forever, and I mentioned that I’ve stopped eating meat, they would be appalled and accuse me of lying. I would laugh and tell them that there’s no way in hell I would joke about giving up meat.
I loved meat so much back in the days, that I would be very offended if you tried to feed me vegetable and I would shout, “Get that shit away from me,” while trying to stick you with a fork. I was certain that if any green leafy object touched me, it would burn a hole in my skin. In the summer, I would go to the local county fairs, pet the livestock and tell them to grow up big and delicious. I actively thumped my meat-eating bible over every vegetarian’s head.
Because of my shameless love for meat, it would take a good twenty minutes of explaining for my friends to get over the shock of my not eating meat. Even then, they would say, “You’re lying because you’re laughing.” I would reply, “I’m laughing because I still can’t believe the words that are coming from my mouth. I’ve become my own idea of a bad joke gone wrong.”

I’ve been thinking lately that I’m tired of defending my lifestyle swap and reassuring my friends/acquaintances that I haven’t gone sick in the head and I realize there’s an obvious solution to all this. I need to grow a goatee. I think the moment I grow a goatee, people will just know that I’m in my evil twin mode. The beauty of the goatee is that if there’s a day when I decide to switch back to my earth destroying, cow chomping ways, I can just shave off the goatee and be my old self with no explanation needed. I’ve never grown a goatee, so I’m not sure how complicated it might be, but I’m sure there’s a programming manual out there that can instruct me on the matter and I’m betting I’ll look dashing with a goatee.

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I got up an hour earlier this morning to get still more shots for my volunteer thing at Harborview. I think missed the fine prints and I must have volunteered to be a lab rat instead of helper rat. After months of waiting, I will finally get to attend a volunteer orientation on the 27th of this month, after which I might actually get to *gasp* work a volunteer shift…but I’m sure that’s not going to happen until I get a few more shots. I’m half expecting that if I even look at a patient wrong, they’ll send me off to get vaccinated. Walked by Room 103B? Go get vaccinated.
Getting all these vaccines and reading about them got me thinking…why don’t I have these shots already? The ones for Hepatitis A and B lasts a lifetime and they simply seem like a good idea to have. I’m going to have a talk with my parents and ask them why they are trying to kill me with neglect. Sure, sure, I know there are risks involved with vaccines so why expose your kids to something they are at low risk for…blah blah, but I could have died from a liver failure that isn’t related to my alcoholic tendencies. Also, if they shot me up full of vaccines as a kid, I would have long since forgotten the pain from the needles, it’s not nearly as acceptable to have a grown woman cry from her vaccines.

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Dear Lazy Bastard Self,
I have to admit, being lazy and sitting around on our ass while watching Heroes was fun, but did you honestly think you’d get away with that shit two weeks in a row? Thanks to you, by the time we finally got ourselves to the trailhead, the morning sun has long since hidden itself behind clouds that mirthfully dumped buckets of rain on us. Hilarious. Oh, I’d like to point out that it was pretty fucking annoying of you to bitch up a storm when we got to the Mailbox Peak trailhead. We’ve already established that this trail hurts, just suck it up and go. And that last minute attempt to get us to turn around to Mount Si for an easier hike; that was not cute not even with the lips quivering pout.
Also, we’ve already complained enough about the heat in our Bikram yoga class in this blog, complaining more before the class will not get you out of it. If you don’t hold such regular influence over our every action, we might get a stretch in once in a while, thus eliminating the need for a class to force us to stretch.
Thanks for hiding our climbing gear underneath the other bags, that was actually a pretty good move, it’s nice to see you putting some effort in being lazy. I almost gave up…but we’re going climbing today, so suck it!

Love,
Your Secret Admirer

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On Sunday, I debated over whether I should go hiking or attend a yoga class. Hiking won by my need to feel pain in my quads. I made breakfast and clicked on a link to some Nickelback video. I noticed the video was spliced with the show “Heroes” which all the kids have been raving about for the past five hundred years. I also noticed that the show had the adorable little blonde girl from “Remember the Titans”. I did a little googling and found they had all the episodes online. Seeing as to how I’m always about five hundred years behind all fads, I figured this one was ripe and that I should check out one episode. What could it hurt? Some 12 hours, a missed hike and 2 missed meals later…I found out it could hurt in the “I’m woozy from too much sitting in front of the screen but I can’t bring myself to leave” sort of way.

I’m sure if you live in the states, you’ve seen this show already so you’re probably wondering what kind of rock have I been living under to not have seen this show. I live under a “I don’t watch TV” rock and it’s actually pretty damned sweet. So damn you internetz for your evil TV show bringing ways and damn you clicky finger for not being able to resist. In so many ways, I’m glad I didn’t catch this show until the season was over, because the writer of the show obviously did his master’s thesis on “How To End A Show With A Killer Cliffhanger”. If I watched this week by week, I would have to hand someone a rubber mallet and ask him/her to knock me the fuck out until next week because I can’t wait that long for it.

This show has everything going for it. It has a likable cast, with some ridiculously hot men and women. It’s well written with a great storyline. And…it’s about people with super power.

I believe that all of us has a thing for super power, we all want to be beyond ordinary. A long while back, my friend JC told me about a survey done where they asked people if they preferred the ability to fly or to turn invisible. The answer of who preferred what, wasn’t important, it’s that every single person asked has an answer right away. Every person, old and young, doctors, lawyers or librarians, has given this idea some thought. This show feeds our “thing” for super power.

Here’s a link for those that snuck under the same rock as me. Be warned, it will suck up your life until the end and don’t say I never shared my drugs with you. Side note, if you’re watching it online, click on the little box on the left under the video to watch it in full-screen mode.

I went to my girlfriend, Myra’s baby’s first month party on Saturday and I didn’t coo with delight nor did I try to poke it with a stick, so I guess the nesting instinct isn’t so strong with this one after-all.

Edit: Ooops, wrong video linked. It’s fixed now.

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Now that I own a food processor, have I gotten around to “processing” some food or is it collecting dust as my coworker hints at? I’m very proud to say, I’ve made some very real efforts to cook and I just made some “Almond Pesto” with it.
I know I’ve spent nearly an entire blog entry gushing about The Modern Vegetarian Kitchen cookbook already, but I really can’t show enough appreciation for this book. Peter Berley has a thing for cooking everything from scratch and it truly is a rewarding experience if you enjoy cooking with raw ingredients.
In his Almond Pesto recipe, there’s not exactly a lot of cooking involved, but he starts the recipe with raw almond. With the raw almond, you’re supposed to boil it for a minute or two then douse it with cold water which causes the almond skin to separate and you squeeze the almond to remove the skin. After the almond dries, you lightly toast the almond. The results of this recipe is so amazing, the pesto is a nice creamy paste and it tastes like a cross between almond butter and pesto without all the oiliness of store-bought pesto (and it’s vegan for those that are suspicious of cheese in pesto). I steal a bite from the jar (this would be gross with most of the store-bought pesto) every time I walk near the fridge. I plan to combine this with his made from scratch noodle recipe this weekend.
I’ve also mentioned how much I love his seitan recipe and I’ve tried looking up more of similar recipes to get different stocks to cook the seitan in, because that’s what gives it its base flavor, and I was very disappointed by how none of the recipes start you from basic flour. I’m posting the seitan cooking part of the recipe here because I think making gluten from scratch is an amazing experience (my coworker thinks this is stupid tedious, so it’s definitely not for everyone).

Ingredients:
2 lbs white bread flour,
2 lbs whole wheat bread flour,
4-5 cups of filtered cold water

1. Combine flour and mix in just enough water to form a nice workable dough.
2. Knead dough for 15 minutes on a flat surface.
3. Return dough to bowl and cover dough with luke-warm water and let it rest for 30 minutes. (cook a soy sauce heavy vegetable stock during this time)
4. Now commence rinsing the bran and starch from the dough. Put dough in a colander. Rinse in cold water for 5 minutes. Rinse in warm water for 5 minutes. Rinse in cold water for 5 minutes. Rinse in warm water for 5 minutes. Rinse in cold for a final 2 minutes. Yes, that’s five rinses total. During the rinse process, squeeze and stretch the dough to work most of the starch out, don’t overwash because the seitan will come out rubbery-chewy.
5. Take the leftover ball of gluten and pinch off golf ball sized chunks of it and drop it in the stock then simmer for an hour.

That’s it. I was extremely skeptical that you can get meat-like textured food out of white and wheat flour, but it actually works. The results are delicious little balls of protein that you can slice up (if the protein ball is white in the center, you’ve over-kneaded the dough in step 2) and put into any kind of stir-fry to give it some extra protein and texture. I prefer seitan over tofu because I don’t have to worry about the tofu breaking up too much in stir-fry, tofu tends to keep its own tofu taste (which is good in some cases, but not all) and most importantly, I like having something substantial to chew on.

All this new craze for cooking got me thinking maybe I’m a late bloomer for nesting instincts. Watch in another month or so, whenever I visit my friends with babies, I’ll coo with delight and ask if I can poke it with a stick.

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Some people acquire new hobbies and they can wrangle their habits into a cheap new diversion…I am not a member of these “some people”. I am the consumerist sucker that makes the marketing department rub their hands together with glee. I pick up a new hobby and I buy every strange obscure item related to this hobby. My latest must-have item of the day is a food mill.
I went to Target and Fred Meyers and found zero signs of a food mill. I asked one of my coworker who is a closet gourmet chef wannabe where I might be able to obtain such an item:

Coworker: What is a food mill?
Me: Well, it’s this thing…that mills food.
Coworker: I have a food processor, is that what you’re talking about?
Me: No, I just bought a food processor, it’s definitely not that. A food mill is a hand crank device used to puree soup, it’s sorta like a manual food processor, but gives pureed soup a chunkier texture, which I prefer. Also good for making chunky gravy.
Coworker: I’m guessing you can get that at Bed, Bath and Beyond.
Me: Yeah, I was hoping to avoid a trip to the snooty shop. I just dropped a few hundred bucks on a food processor, knives, various mills/grinders and other cooking crap.
Coworker: You should just go to Value Village and buy them second hand. I bought a full set of quality kitchen equipment there for less than a hundred bucks.
Me: Really?
Coworker: Yeah, kitchen equipment are like gym equipment, people buy them with the good intention of using them, but they end up collecting dust.
Me: Hey! I’ll have you know, I fully intend to be very into cooking for at least two whole weeks.

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The lead programmer on my team sent out an email saying he’ll be leaving early, around lunch time, today because his wife’s cat had gone missing for almost three days and they were going to drive from shelter to shelter to look for it. Apparently, three days is the cut off time for pets in shelters before they go for the long nap.
A little before noon, I wished him good luck in finding the cat, he smiled nervously and said, “Yeah…we posted signs this morning and my neighbor just called and he found my cat.” I jumped with joy and said, “Oh that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you.” He laughed and said, “Well, no…he only found the collar.” He went on to explain that his neighbor had seen a full grown mountain lion eating something in his backyard so he went to investigate only to find some fur and collar.
Mountain lion!!? It’s not like my coworker lives in the sticks, he lives 10-15 minutes from work in Redmond. Still, he said they’ve seen a lot of foxes hang out in the area, so he had already written the cat off as eaten.
He left early to meet up with his wife and tell her about the neighbor’s report. Poor guy and wife.
I always say Seattle is wonderful because we have our little city with all these mountains nearby. It’s a sweet deal, we get mugged while the local fauna snack on our family pets. Where else are you going to find all that in one area?

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