Blog whore

I have another blog that I'm focusing my efforts on more these days. I figure since I spend so much time reading up on food, TV and movies that I might as well write a blog on... those things. Also, I need to spend less time checking my 2 emails every 5 seconds at work.

For those keeping track, I now have...
2 MySpace accounts
2 Yahoo Mail accounts
2 Blogger blogs
and 1 largely untouched Facebook account (my "partridge in a pear tree")

Check out LA Anti-Socialite if I don't post here for a while.

Anthony Bourdain I am not...

I almost feel embarrassed writing this blog. 

Which is why I'm writing it. I was going to pretend this never happened, but I need to accept that it did and that I am not quite as bad-ass as I thought I was.

*sigh*

I'll stop being cryptic.

So, I take a lot of pride in the fact that I will try eating just about anything once. I like to order that thing on the menu that doesn't have much of a description. I like to go for the House Specialty, whatever that may be. Try new things! How bad can it be? What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Come on, you pussy, it's only food!

I read too much Anthony Bourdain.

And now it has bitten me in the ass.

The problem is that I clearly haven't retained enough of the knowledge I've gleaned from my inordinate amount of reading about food. The special of the day at Bronco was a word I had heard before, not only as the name of a shitty Latino boy-band, but also as a food.

It was "menudo".

(Those of you who know what this is can shut the hell up and quit LOLing.)

I knew the word in the context of being a food, but I couldn't recall for the life of me what it was. Now this is the point at which most people would ask the lady at the counter, "Excuse me, what is menudo?" and she would have told you that it was... well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. But no. My inner Bourdain started taunting me, saying just to get it and have a mini adventure on your otherwise boring Sunday night. So I got it. Without a fucking clue what I had just ordered.

After waiting (which, thinking back, I don't know what took so fucking long) for my food, I was handed a bag and I left. I stepped outside and peeked into the bag. There was a big styrofoam container with a lid. Some kind of soup or stew, I rightly guessed. I began my walk home.

As I neared my apartment, I became more and more afraid of the parcel in my hands. I started to fear my food as I have never feared food before, to my recollection. I began to (stupidly) imagine a scenario in which I entered my apartment where Greg and Nic were watching a movie and Greg asks, "Hey, what did you get?" and I say "Um... menudo?" and they both begin to laugh hysterically because they know what it is and I am the dumbass who ordered it. 

Upon entering the apartment, I swiftly make my way to my room. I carefully set down my questionable meal and instead of tasting it, I google it. Of course, Wikipedia has the top entry (aside from the band Menudo's website). I'll take it. I click on "Menudo (soup)" and this is what I read:

The soup menudo is a traditional Mexican dish; a frequently spicy soup made with tripe. It is often thought of as a cure for a hangover, and is traditionally served on special occasions or with family. In pre-revolutionary Mexico, poverty among the campesinos was chronic, and little if anything that might be prepared as food was left to waste. Usually, the best cuts of meat would go to the hacienda owners while the offal went to the peasants. These leftovers consisted of organ meats, brains, head, tails, hooves, etc. As cattle and sheep are ruminants that require lengthy intestinal tracts to digest their diet of grasses and raw seeds, the stomach is one of the largest pieces of offal available from these animals.

There are a number of variations on menudo, including blanco (white or clear), verde (green), or rojo (red). Typical condiments added to menudo are dried oregano, epazote, ground chile flakes, lime juice, fresh cilantro and chopped onion. Due to the length of time needed to cook tripe to be tender enough to be edible, menudo is generally cooked in large batches and sold as a special menu item in Mexican restaurants, although it is occasionally prepared at home. In some areas menudo is sold as a weekend-only specialty in regular restaurants (typically announced by signs reading Rico Menudo fines de semana). In other areas, menudo is made daily, but mostly sold in restaurants and market stalls (fondas) that specialize in the dish.

Goddammit.  I just bought tripe soup.

Knowing what it was, I finally unveiled my terrifying dinner. Alright. Looks like soup with... vague stuff in it. I stirred it and one of the chunks bobbed to the top.

Oh.

Hell.

No.

I shit you not, I almost became vegetarian on the spot. All the bravado I had exhibited in the restaurant had faded, leaving only a squeamish girl and a styrofoam bowl. 

I CAN DO THIS I CAN DO THIS I CAN DO THIS.

I took a taste of the broth.

Not bad. Spicy. A bit meaty but kind of a... strange taste.

(fuckingcoworsheepstomach!)

Alright.

Now let's get ballsy.

I went in for a chunk.

Scooped.

Lifted.

Deposited in my mouth.

Chewed.

Swallowed.

No thanks.

I tried my damnedest to eat the broth and got about 10% of it down (this was a BIG container), but then all those horrible looking (and I tell you, the chunks were HORRIBLE looking; weird, spongy, white blobs) pieces o' tripe began to gather in numbers at the top of the soup and I gave up. I had put up a valiant fight, but my pride finally gave out to my dislike of bizarre internal organ food. Mark it right up there with "chicken livers" as things I have tried as an adult an and find wildly disgusting.

Thank god it came with tortillas. For dessert, I had old Halloween candy.

Wow.

On a side-note, I think it's HILARIOUS that a band notorious for casting off members for getting too old has the same name as a Mexican soup made of cast-off parts of an animal. According to Wikipedia, "Menudo (from Latin minūtus) also means 'small, thin, worthless, vulgar, (money) change'...", but in Puerto Rico, it also means "young folks".

Who's got two thumbs and learned a valuable lesson today?

Ridiculous

I do tend to overthink things. And by "things" I mean "everything".

Right now, I'm trying to decide where to go to lunch.
Do I go to the very close corner deli and get a burrito and chips for $3.50 or do I take a walk over and up Westwood and try out a Persian sandwich place I've been reading about? I don't know how much the sandwiches cost. I'm not even sure exactly where it is. Vaguely, yes.

I'm also feeling foggy-headed. Maybe I should go to the place where I don't have to cross many streets. My legs are also hurting from La Cage rehearsal.

That's it.
I'm getting the burrito.

One of these days, I'll get that sandwich though. Most likely not after dance rehearsal and cold medicine.

Must be strong...

I suck at planning surprises for people.

Don't get me wrong, I plan EXCELLENT surprises. They're generally unexpected... except when I blow the surprise because I have to talk about it. I'm awesome like that. I spend a bunch of time trying to figure out the best gift or party idea or meal for someone, come up with a great idea AND THEN I WANT TO TELL THEM! Because I'm excited and I know THEY'll be excited and I want us to be excited about it together because I'll be slightly disenchanted with the awesomeness by the time their birthday/christmas/party comes around. And I know that the other person's excitement will inspire new excitement when they finally get their surprise... but it's REALLY hard not to talk about it.

I can't even really talk about it HERE for fear that the person will somehow stumble upon this blog and blow the surprise! Dammit!

Oh forget it! I'm done not-talking about it.

Obligatory post-Rogue post.

Apparently, post-Rogue is in vogue.

(God, I'm witty. Or something.)

Anyhow, my cohorts and I have been having a bit of trouble re-acclimating ourselves to life after Fresno seeing as we not only had an awesome time, but we also a) got bigger audiences than we ever get in LA, b) didn't have to beg or guilt ANY of our audience members to get them there, and c) actually turned a profit while d) doing something that makes us happy. 

And now we're back to normal.

Back to our own Valley. Back to survival jobs. Back to the struggle of trying to make happiness, success, fulfillment and financial security merge in some way.

It kind of sucks.

I know I'm feeling a bit low just because for the first time since... shit, sometime last spring, I don't have a show to work on. Hence, I'm scrabbling for any audition I can get myself into. I feel like I'm wasting my time if I'm not. It's weird though, because even though I'm nervous about how little I have going on right now, I'm kind of sinking into it and over-compensating by really, really doing nothing. Staying in bed way too late, letting junk pile up on my floor, sitting around watching movies instead of finding something productive to do. I did make soup and bread from scratch the other day, so that was good. And then I let my vain-consumer-side take over and I bought a new pair of shoes. But that's the thing: these have been the highlights of my days. Oh, and I saw a couple shows yesterday, but nothing that made me feel like I was doing anything. Except when I edited some stuff I shot last year and I did clean my room today...

Maybe I'm doing more than I realize, but I'm not registering it because it's all taking place inside my apartment. 

It's not that bad, I guess. I just need to get back to my old swing. And maybe a new swing or two.

RE: 2 blogs ago

I just got an email last night... and I TOTALLY won those fuckin sweats!

My wit got me sweatpants! NICE!
Here's the article from Stylephile:

Alternative Apparel winner

America is hungry for lounge-about clothes that you can go to the gym in, judging from the response to our Alternative Apparel competition a few weeks ago. We asked what activities—or inactivities—you would partake of while wearing items from the super comfy line, and the responses ranged from lazy ("I'd cook up lots of comfort foods -- mashed potatoes, grilled cheese, steaming cups of hot cocoa") to cerebral ("I would certainly be more comfortable studying for my qualifying exam for my PhD!") to flirty ("If I won this outfit I would wear it when I answered the door so the cute UPS guy might finally think I'm cute and ask me out!").In the end though, I went for this upbeat answer by Dana, whose sassy optimism and masterful storytelling hit just the right note.

"I'll wake up the morning and face the question, "Hmmm, bathrobe or Alternative Apparel sweats?" And then I'll throw on the sweats. Being dressed, maybe I'll take a walk around the block, lookin' supa-fine and making my neighbors supa-jealous. I'll cruise on home, stretch my legs and prepare for my day. That's when I look in the mirror, say "I look awesome!" and go straight to work. The building I work in has a workout facility and everyone will ask me all day where I got the sweet gear. After work, I'll head on out to my play rehearsal, where my friends will ask suspiciously, "Weren't you wearing that last time we saw you?" And I'll say, "Yes, but I washed it." And maybe it'll even be true."

Silly, maybe

It's sad. That's all the input that I really have.
Any untimely death is sad.

I don't know why I feel so bummed about the death of Heath Ledger. I think it might have something to do with the fact that he seemed to have just hit his stride in his career. He had some silly movies behind him, some terrible movies behind him, and he had just hit a crop of really good projects that allowed him to stretch himself as an actor. I feel like there was so much just on the horizon for him. After he lost the Oscar for "Brokeback Mountain", I remember thinking that it was okay, that it was his first nomination and if he kept this up, he'd have many years of nominations ahead of him. It's just sad to think that now he won't.

And it makes me think about my friends. How devastated I would be if it were one of them.

Everybody just has to take care of themselves. And anybody else that will let you take care of them.