catheroominations

Sorry for the unintentional blog hiatus. I packed my blog mojo in one of the bajillion boxes now lining my garage and I’m not sure which one it’s in.

While you’re waiting for some fresh squeezed creative juices, maybe you could help me with this math problem:
Billy lives in an 800-square foot apartment. Sally’s apartment is 875 square feet. The sum of the 2 apartments is 1675 square feet. Billy and Sally want to share an apartment that is 1131 square feet. 1131 is 544 less than 1675, so Billy or Sally must sacrifice some of their belongings. Which of his worldly goods must Billy get rid of so that the apartment can accomodate Sally’s prized possessions?

Me: (sigh) Should I just turn on the baseball game?
Him: When’s it on?
Me: (sigh) Now. It just started.
Him: You don’t sound too excited about watching the game.
Me: Yeah, I’m not, but I don’t think you like what I want to watch.
Him: What do you want to watch?
Me: Law & Order. DUN-DUN! (That was my impression of the clangy sound between scenes.)
Him: We can watch whatever you want to watch, Hon. As long as it’s not Sisterhood of the Ya-Ya Pants.

Son: Hey Mom, we’re driving through Sonoma and we keep seeing these black birds with red on their wings. I can’t remember what that bird is called. Do you?
Mom: It’s a red-winged blackbird.
Son: Ah, okay. Thanks!

Moms are the smartest.

I’m going to the jeweler’s to get my NEW engagement ring sized!

Pictures and scoop later. I’m too excited to gather my thoughts right now!

Woohoo!!!!!

UPDATED: Checkout the ring!

the boy and I watched his dvd of coupling (the british one, not the lame-ass american knock-off). if you haven’t seen an episode, rent the dvds or find it on bbc. (you’re welcome.)

he wanted me to listen intently to the following speech by steve, given at a dinner party thrown by him and his girlfriend susan. steve explains why he watches porn erotica:

“because it’s got naked women in it! look, I like naked women! I’m a bloke! I’m supposed to like them! we’re born like that. we like naked women as soon as we’re pulled out of one. halfway down the birth canal we’re already enjoying the view.

look, it’s the four pillars of the male heterosexual psyche. we like: naked women, stockings, lesbians, and sean connery best as james bond. because that is what being a bloke is. and if you don’t like it, darling, join a film collective.

I want to spend the rest of my life with the woman at the end of the table here. but that does not stop me wanting to see several thousand more naked bottoms before I die. because that’s what being a bloke is. when man invented fire, he didn’t say, “hey, let’s cook!” he said, “great! now we can see naked bottoms in the dark!” as soon as caxton invented the printing press we were using it to make pictures of – hey! naked bottoms. we’ve turned the internet into an enormous international database of…naked bottoms. so, you see, the story of male achievement through the ages, feeble though it may have been, has been the story of our struggle to get a better look at your bottoms. frankly, girls, I’m not so sure how insulted you really ought to be.”

the boy’s reaction to the speech was a raucus applause, similar to the blokes sitting at the dinner table on the tv.

I believe the message was lost on me, completely. I stopped listening at “I want to spend the rest of my life…” as did susan, steve’s girlfriend of two months.

(in case you were wondering, I found steve’s speech online. I didn’t pause. type. pause. type. rewind. type. to post it. I am not that anal.)

last night the boy and I went here:
for valentine’s day. yes, I know the hallmark holiday of love was tuesday. we went to dinner last night because the boy and I are so enamored with each other our celebration of love takes 2 days. or maybe it was because la fondue had a heinously overpriced menu on the 14th.

the 14th did not go unnoticed though. in addition to the walgreens I (heart) you bear that plays “love me tender” when you press its foot, the boy sent me tulips (my favorite) and gave me a gift certificate for a mud wrap at spa. I gave him cheese and rootbeer.

but last night was the gastronomical adventure. la fondue. we had the combination. starting with a yummy salad with lemon tarragon dressing. why they even serve salad, I do not know. neither did our server. you will never leave that place hungry.

after the salad came our appetizer of cheese fondue. we opted for the stinking rose. swiss cheese with wine and garlic. garlic. the gift that keeps on giving. I smell like gilroy right now. we dipped bread, potatoes, broccoli, apples, grapes, carrots, and garlic cloves into the melty pot of dairy deliciosity.

yum.

then came the meat. la romantique. raw filet, turkey, and shrimp. yes, you pay to cook your own food at la fondue. our preferred cooking method was punsch, which was spiced red wine with cloves and rosemary. we also had dipping sauces like teriyaki with wasabi, sour cream and chive somethingorother, bbq, mango, and horseradish.

yum.

the boy doesn’t like chocolate much. uh…didn’t like chocolate much. until the dessert fondue came. since I thought it was going to be all for me, I ordered milk chocolate with irish creme. to dip: marshmallows. apples. rice crispie treats. snicker bars. bananas. oranges. pineapple. cream cheese balls rolled in cinnamon. I was in full food coma while he continued to dip, his favorite being the cream cheese (wisconsin boy).

yum doesn’t cover the dessert fondue. @#$%ing yummy as @#$%.

after dinner we went home for hours of hot, passionate…sitting on the couch like puffalumps, both feeling like nicole ritchie must feel after she eats a potato chip.