Eire and Ire

I always knew I would go to Ireland at some point in my life.  My last name starts with Mc for christ's sake, it's practically required that I go.  If I were Muslim, I would make a pilgrimage to Mecca, but I'm Irish (with grandparents directly from the island - accents, American wakes and all), so a trip to the emerald isle was all but inevitable.

Baked

Culinary School.

It seems obvious.  You want to cook, you have to learn how to do it.  Schools teach you things, so for cooking you go to culinary school, right?

Maybe.

My Love Smells Like Burning

Every year I buy a real live Christmas tree.  I'm not religious, but I love having the tree in my house.  It smells good!  The lights are pretty!  My cats like to chew on it!

This year I went with a zombie theme (something that will probably be repeated ad nauseam this year, just wait).

Ohhhhh... Ahhhhh...  Braaaaains...

But, as of last weekend, the tree wasn't so much zombied as mummified.  Yeah it was DEAD.  It needed to go.  Fortunately my neighborhood has a quick and dirty way of disposing of the the trees.

We burn them.

NOMaste

So my little chickadees, how did I spend the new year?

Sweating.

I decided to forgo the typical drunken debauchery and do something healthy.  So I did 108 sun salutations.  (I apologize to anyone who was hoping for a good 'you-did-what-???' story.  This is in no way indicative of a lack of debauchery for the rest of the year, promise.)

Captain Chickenheart

Dan Van Vliet aka Captain Beefheart died yesterday.  He was one of those musicians that I always thought I should like more than I actually did.  (Frank Zappa and Radiohead also fall into this category - go on, throw stones at me.)  But when you're having a great day, you don't think "God damn!  I should totally listen to some Trout Mask Replica RIGHT NOW!"

Or at least I don't.


That said, he influenced a lot of musicians I have much love for, Tom Waits and PJ Harvey among them.  So Cap't Beefy, I salute you and hope your tripping the light fantastic in the great hereafter as we speak.

The Behemoth

Yeah, that would be a hamburger with grilled cheese buns.  And bacon and beer soaked onions with a side of fries and garlic aioli.  What else is there to say?

Someday I'm going to have to explain to a cardiologist that I ingested the whole thing.  I should probably start campaigning to get on a donor list now.

Heart-stopping burgery goodness from the Grill 'Em All truck.

Comfort me with mashed potatoes

I have trouble with perspective.  When everything is good, it's all gravy, but when it's bad, I can't seem to bring myself to believe life will be good again.

It's pretty bad right now.  Without getting too deep in the depressing details of my existence, I've reached the point where all the promise of my youth has been wasted or spent, I'm just surviving not really living, and I'm feeling thoroughly unloved (blah, blah, BLAH).  I am trying - desperately - to pull myself out of this funk.

Mashed potatoes.  The ultimate comfort food (for me).  Endlessly modifiable and yet always the same.  Me?  I like them with butter, sour cream, milk, chives, and salt.  You can't be unhappy with a belly full of that.  The wine helps too.

Can I get an amen?