broken strings

Notice I'm in a good mood? (rhetorical question, how could you?) I'm listening to James Morrison's Broken Strings (featuring Nelly Furtado), for like the tenth time in a row. I plan to play this song until I'm sick of it or have to go to bed, whichever happens first.

I'm still in a relationship with GD (initials changed to protect the innocent). It's on again. I wonder if the only way this woman won't let me go, is that I'm not that into her, and therefore, I'm setting good boundaries. If I'm ever in different relationship, it will be a good model to emulate. at least that's what I think. Don't be that into her and basically do what I want and make sure to do things without her, don't care what she thinks (about me), be relaxed, have no fear of rejection, just be comfortable.... of course this has created a problem on its own... especially as I have gotten further into the relationship. I do have this fear.... ideally there is this thing called love. You know where you give all of yourself to someone and they do likewise to you.

I'm guessing, just guessing, but that connection makes sex, seem like a PC compared to a Mac or a Pontiac Fiat compared to a Ferrari, or that Mercury coupe that they don't make anymore compared to a Madza Miata. Or the BCS college bowl games compared to March Madness. (sorry having too much fun with these analogies). or Jennifer Love Hewitt horror movies compared to Neve Campbell horror movies. or Kaplan compared to The Princeton Review (although Kaplan does hook its employees up with free movie previews).

back to the point I was making about love and my current relationship. I think it will be hard to build a foundation of trust, real trust and commitment necessary for, you know, the heavens open up and a white light shines through, kind of love, I was kinda hoping for (think the scenes in Ghost, when a person dies and his or her soul gets into heaven. and the white light shines down). Just because, it is based on me, pretty much not caring. I don't know, maybe I will start to care... I don't know. GD, certainly has a good strategy, make me stay around until I figure out that I need to care and start worrying about what she thinks, either then maybe we can have that "Ghost" type of connection. or maybe she decides I was a much better BF to her, when I didn't care. I guess this will be good information to have either way.

Broken Strings, by James Morrison, check it out on Youtube. I'm listening it to one last time, and then I'm going to bed. Peace out. maybe I really will start to blog more regularly. I don't even remember what my other resolutions were, oh yeah. get a regular job. and move out of my parent's house... like that will ever happen.

Not Sushi

Snapsan, Kraklesan, Popsan


We made a bunch of sushi a couple weekends ago. People wolfed it down so fast I didn't get any pictures. Most people made veggie rolls, some of which we "tempuraed" - the Japanese equivalent of a scotch egg. But that is not our story today...

The next day I had a lot of left over sticky rice which got me thinking of different kinds of non-sushi foods that you could make into rice covered rolls. I should back up for a moment and mention that someone brought rice-crispy-treat fruishi (fantastic, see above) to dinner so not-sushi was already in the air. I started traditional: musubi (in honor of our new prez) and noodle rolls (not so good, but ramen was a dime a piece). Then I took a sharp left...

First I made a batch of mac and cheese and let it congeal in the fridge (It is very rare that a recipe with the word "congeal" is any good, but bare with me). Then I mixed up some raw meatloaf, smooshed it into a rough approximation of a square sheet between two pieces of wax paper and rolled up the mac and cheese. About 15 min in the oven, slice, serve with ketchup and the Comfort-Fusion movement is born.

For my next trick I went back to fundamentals: I started with a square of pressed out sticky rice. But instead of Japanese ingredients, I rolled up slices of braunschweiger, slivered pickle and a long squirt of mustard. Ladies and germs, I give you:
The Axis Roll!

Resolution fatigue

Every year, I plan on writing more. It's been my new year's resolution for the last few years. Yet here I am, writing quite a few times in January and then totally slacking off. Even people that plan to work out in the New Year usually go to the gym at least through mid-February.

Things are the same here. But different. I always wondered if I would overcome my dark-side thoughts. (more on that later). or whether I would just forget about them or they would magically go away. You know the thoughts about life, what I would do with my life, making decisions. I don't usually stand pat. although I make some good decisions. I. Hereby. Swear. That tomorrow will be different than today. Don't we always say that? Every day I hope to conquer the world, and then something comes up and I go back to my shell or at least near it. (It's not quite as bad as it sounds, over the years I've developed quite a large, roomy shell.) Tomorrow. Tonight, I seriously look into getting out of the parent's house. how long exactly did Costanza, stay with his parents?

on that note... Sorry friends and family on the East Coast. I probably will be relocating to somewhere in the Bay Area, so I can finish my Master's degree. Why? I don't really know. But hopefully soon. ok, realistically, maybe in the next year or two?

It's just so hard figuring out my place in the world, from where I imagined I would be, where I'll actually wind up. I've always wanted to do something great and quite frankly biostatistician or statistician for a psychology program doesn't really fit the bill. Being a teacher, at least you have the potential to do great things. enough of this. For you loyal readers, this is one of the first blogs that wasn't an impulse. I saved it for three weeks before publishing it. Usually when this happens, I don't bother publishing it. consider it a b-side record or an unpublished manuscript, that you get to see, even before I get desperate for money (b-side record) or you know, pass away (unpublished manuscript).

by the way, I've very superstititious about talking about my own mortality. Is it a writing rule I never learned? I hope to never mention it again. and I'm probably making it a bigger deal now, by talking about it again in this paragraph.

The Uninvited

I watched a free movie tonight. It was a special screening of "The Uninvited." I think I am supposed to promote the movie. I did see it for free, and like many good movies, it gave me a different perspective on things. Either the movie went on a little too long, or I just couldn't handle the suspense. Nonetheless, I was impressed, by everything, except a lot of the dialogue and the interaction between the actors in the early scenes. And I wasn't as scared as I thought I'd be, but I was whigging out a little on the BART ride hope. Like I had just experience a trauma.

I was especially taken back with Arielle Kebbel, the girl on the right. Her acting was amazing. Ok, I'm not one to be aware of bad or really good acting. I just noticed that she's hot and legal. She can even drink, and would've already graduated college if she hadn't become a movie star. She even had a 4.3 average in high school. I'm assuming she is really smart and it that wasn't because she was giving special favors to her teachers. although, I'm sure they would've accepted. Even Emily Browning on the right is legal, but she can't go with you to the bar. Sadly Arielle is a little too tall for me at 5'8". But then didn't George date his share of tall girls? I'm holding out hope.

Sorry, I'm not more specific on the movie, which on the whole wasn't that scary, but had enough suspense, was kinda disturbing, but while impressive was kinda unbelievable. However, I usually not diss movies because of that.... Arielle Kebbel is really, really hot.

Next Post: I promise to talk about the trip, I just came back from. and maybe I'll even blog about online dating or getting back together again, again, again, or not with my ex.

Please, por favor, make some kind of comment if you are read this. Otherwise, I'll think about just creating a journal.

adios amigos.

-GCNOF

Butcher and Singer

GCNOF was treated to another of Philly's fine restaurants last night. Butcher and Singer is a Stephen Starr Steakhouse, that had some strong points and some weak points. It ranks as a decent steakhouse in Philly, but didn't measure up to the best.

A couple of things of note: we ordered a porterhouse for two, which was decent, if undercooked. We ordered it medium rare, the middle part was definitely just "rare." The outsides of the cut, were perfectly salty and scrumptious, while the gentlemanly Bearnaise sauce made the middle and very raw parts delicious as well. The butcher salad was decent. I had a hard time deciding between that and the tomato and roquefort salad. Had I done it over again I would have chosen the latter. The best side dish we ordered was the mushrooms and onions. I never had room for the potato side dishes, but they looked good.

I was disappointed in the large seafood/shellfish dish we ordered. The cold prawns (or very large shrimp) disappointed. the shrimp salad was decent, as was the crab. I didn't particularly care for the one oyster. I think the appetizer was the worst part of the meal. Unfortunately it came first.

The dessert was without peer or at least without superiors. The cheesecake was just about as good as cheesecakes come and I might still be selling it short. The carrot cake, had (for me) the unfortunate timing of appearing near me after I had eaten half the cheesecake. So in fairness to the carrot cake. I will not rate it... but I'm sure it wasn't half-bad. I've heard the chocolate cake doesn't quite measure up.

Besides the disappointing appetizer, Butcher and Singer suffered from poor design, bad seating for a party of seven, and popularity. The poor design included not having enough space in the waiting area. Besides constantly being in people's way, while waiting for your seat, after we checked our coats, we assumed we would be immediately seated. Now on a pleasant day, this would be no problem. But with the temperature in the single digits, every time someone came in the door, a nice draft made us regret checking our coats at all. Of course I didn't realize that at our sofa chairs, there would be nowhere to put our coats anyway.

The loveseats/couches we sat on made me wish I was a little taller. I assume that would have made the dining position more comfortable. The table was really made for two groups of four, so our dinner of seven was really a dinner of four and three, which in a way was nice. But really it was like having two different dinner parties, seated very, very close to each other.

The other complaint was that the bathroom are not that clearly labeled. It wasn't as bad as Tao in Las Vegas, where you have to wait until someone walks out to know which restroom to use. I believe there was an M and a W, but I'm not sure. I went into the bathroom with a squirrel peeing standing up. I just like when it is really clear in one glance which restroom is for you.

Overall, according to the local Philly restaurant connoisseur, Butcher and Singer doesn't reach the elite echelon of Philadelphia Steakhouses. But had our group been smaller, eaten on a weeknight or Sunday, when it wouldn't be as crowded, and passed on the large seafood appetizer we would definitely have an experience worth paying for. We would have been able to enjoy the huge expanse that is Butcher and Singer with ceilings 40 feet tall. Also, next time I'm just going to order the New York Strip.

A joke ruined

I just saw Half-Nelson (it's a Free Movie, if you have On Demand by Comcast). Ryan Goslin stars as a drug addicted junior high History teacher.

My joke that is ruined is this... Someone says, you know I wish I were a rock star...

I said, I don't. If being a rock star made you happy, why do Rock Stars use so many drugs?

so maybe it's just a movie (Half Nelson) and it's really rare that high school teachers are addicted to crack/coke... I just don't know that many math teachers that use drugs... but then I never been a high school math teacher. Am I naive?

I know there are P.E. teachers and football coaches, that hook up with the high school girls. I've heard it on the media, and am pretty sure it happened at a rival high school. I know there are female teachers that elope with their junior high students. South Park's episode on this subject is classic. I just think, or should I say hope, that teachers are for the most part happy/content.

But it's possible, I have no idea what I am talking about. Maybe our teachers went after school to the backroom of a bar and got "high" and made comparisons on which student asked the stupidest question or came to class stoned, drunk or with a hickey, and then hooked up with each other. And really wish that they were Rock Stars and not teachers.

Maybe the math teachers that O.D. don't get that much media coverage and that's why I have this notion, that math teachers are generally happier than rock stars.

At this point, it should be obvious that I'm making the assumption that heavy drug use and true happiness don't go together (remember, my joke).

Thoughts?

statistics

I don't know if I'm going to make it... but my quest for a graduate degree begins (again). first, a class, then admission, and then who knows? I don't know if I'm smart enough and inspired enough in the formula/equations/proofs to finish the degree. but. I'm restarting my journey.
wish me luck. (I'll need it). which also means I'll be staying in the Bay Area. at least until, I find out, I won't be in the program.