Incite Full

Remember how I was craving a burrito? Well Friday night I got it, and it was good. Now, I have to explain a bit, it was a delicious burrito, but not in the true sense of the word. A burrito is meant to be eaten with hands, devoured primitively with prejudice- yet many a place choose to deliver this meat and cheese ship capsized by a wave ranchero. While tasty, it’s more of a giant enchilada than a burrito, and therefore my quest continues for the ultimate burrito.

After the burrito, Dan, Steph, and I headed downtown to the Truck Stop. A bar, where, well, I wasn’t going to meet my future wife- that’s probably the best way to put it. Aside from the girls dancing on the bar, which was amazing, we also ran into a person we had met last weekend at Neomeze- and when I saw her, drunk as she was, she did indeed tell me to do my best Jagger. It was funny, but that was about the extent of our reunion.

Saturday was similar, I actually don’t remember what I did during the day, but I know food (meat) was cooked, probably the first time that kitchen had chicken or beef in quite a while. It won’t be long before it sees it again.

Saturday night Kevin and I went to Lauren’s party, a send off to school, a celebration. Hardly. We’ll give it a year to see if she is as joyous about being “done” as she was that night. School and life are the same exact thing, except for school you’re surrounded by friends all the time. Life has you come home to an empty apartment, maybe a cat, thinking about what you’ll do that weekend. And you fool yourself into thinking that’s what life is like.

The party itself was fun. Seeing some old friends and meeting a few new people was actually a lot of fun. Good food was there too, and we all know I like that. Emily made some amazing peanut butter cookies for which my mouth still waters.

Afterwards kevin and I went to a bar, which i keep calling Tom Bergeron’s, near his chateau. The place was kind of a dump, and the bartender was pretty much a jerk. Which is fine, I don’t need people to like me, but the nonchalant assault on civility which this man displayed was nearing epic proportions. I can learn a lot from him.

The next day I got a new hairdo. It was probably the first time it’s changed in, oh, 15 years? Something ridiculous like that. What’s funny is that Steph and Brian kept saying it looked fine, while I wanted to immediately ostrich my head into the sand. But it’s growing on me, as long as I don’t see it. I would describe it as Cristopher Walken-esque, which makes me very… sad. We went out to lunch and then to the store to pick up some odds and ends for the days baking activities.

Normally I don’t bake- It’s too restrictive and the room for error is about the size of my new closet- but it was Eisha’s birthday and she wanted a cake, so a rich chocolate cake she would receive. The cake called for 2 cups of flour, butI ended up using 9, give or take. 2 for the cake, to be sure, the other 7 were instrumental in testing my vacuum when I dropped the flour container all over the kitchen, in what could only be described as a coke head’s dream. I also got to use a stand mixer for the first time in my life, and let me just say- I would bake a lot more if I had one of these bad boys. It really makes mixing a snap, and does a much better job than I am patient enough to attempt.

When it was all said and done, the cake was complete, delicious, and covered with a semi-sweet ganache to which people rejoiced. Eisha liked it, so that’s really all that matters.

I, lastly, caught the finale of season 1 of Dexter. And let me just say that I respect the show even more now. It had one of those “oh my God” moments near the end, and I now remember why I’m hooked on that show. October can’t come soon enough.

“I’m stepping into the abstract, in terms of how I view myself”

For the past few days I’ve had a craving for burritos. I’ve sent emails, read recipes, browsed forums, and discussed on end with people the sanctity of the tortilla church. I’ve witnessed first hand the robust arguments used against “tex-mex shit” and “california what?” styles of burritos. I’ve been told that I need to endanger my health for a glimpse of burrito nirvana.

Well Friday should silence the choir of growling that is, apparently, a hot ticket in my stomach right now. Me and a few friends are going to a Pasadena restaurant/shack that is supposed to have amazing burritos. I am deliciously excited. It’s been a long time since i’ve been honest-to-God excited about a meal, the last time was probably a trip to Fogo De Chao about a year (almost to the day) ago.

It’s a dangerous proposition, looking forward to things. On one hand, it could be terrible or awful, on the other, it could be forgettable. Am I forgetting the third handed option, as Borat would say, “Great Success?” Hardly, things rarely live up to their expectations on a first go- from food, to movies, to people, we’re all just living in between on giant disappointment and the next. But there are those diamond moments, the silver linings, the sel de fleur of events that completely and utterly contents. This is what makes those lumps of coal bearable.

Last night I went to the aforementioned spin class. When i described it as the dichomatic equal of flossing, I left out one, very important part: It’s like flossing while sprinting uphill with cement filled cowboy boots. While I feel great today, and can eat a burrito without feeling the least bit guilty for it (not that I would anyways), it still kicked my ass.

Hard.

It was an hour long, high impact interval training (HIIT) session. That’s what they call it. They being the pregnant instructor who has yet to gain a pound 16 weeks into her gestation- I use this term because I’m not so sure this woman is human. Not in a bad way, mind you, but as superman was not exactly from Earth- neither is this one. I’m guessing robot. I will do it again, but I much prefer some form of strength training. Those of you who know me find the combination of me and strength laughable at best, unless referring to a gin and tonic. But give me, oh, 3-4 years; we’ll see who’s laughing on top of the proverbial hill.

Lastly, for now anyways, I need to talk about my roommate. I can’t get away from the constant noise and it’s driving me crazy. I am, of course, talking about Basil. He found a thumb tac in my room and decided to knock it all over the damn place with his little paw. Steph might call it a mitten, I’m not sure, but of one thing I am: the cat sleeps elsewhere from now on. I plan on locking and soundproofing the door so that I can attempt a mediocre night’s sleep.

I need you like water in my lungs.