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Furry Cheese

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2.21.2007
This blog is dead. You can now find me at Sheri Eats Food.com
/a
:: Shericat 7:50 PM [+] :: speak
0 comments
8.12.2006
Changes, they are upon us
I'm considering doing away with the blog. Well, actually that's not true, I've already considered it and decided that my mundane life b.s. is really a lot less than interesting and I'm shrugging it off in favor of something I've sort of wanted to do for a long time, a food blog. See, in NYC it was a fancy night out if we strolled down the street for a slice, hence not much in the way of culinary delights for us, even though we lived in the one city in the world that beats them all for culinary delights. That's not to say that we didn't get our share of really earth-shattering meals, most often at the expense of my overly-generous mother in law. Suffice it to say that our time in Seattle has been rife with food, both good and bad, but we have been reveling in our newfound ability to have both time and money to afford trying things out. I do have to say that the overall quality of food here has obviously proven to stand several levels below that of it's NYC counterparts, but we're still embracing our inner "foodie" nonetheless. I still cry a little every time we have pizza here (I don't know why we don't just give up altogether), but I can live with it.
Soon to come, long, unadulterated forays into: seven courses of beef, handmade gnocci, sea scallops the size of a small child's fist, spicy meat slurry, the best miniburgers ever, bacon in cube form, acid-trip inducing fried chicken, and the list goes on.
I'll let you all know where this ends up.
:: Shericat 10:25 AM [+] :: speak
2 comments
8.05.2006
Reason #4,768 why I love this city
We just wound our way out of the annual party at Steve Bard's house. It's really, really difficult to put this experience into words, and if you know me and my nonstop mouth at all, then you know that statement is a heavy one. This man is a legend of sorts among Seattleites, and now I see why. It's kind of like those reality tv shows where a clean freak invades a clutter freak's house and give it some kind of exorcism involving a sacrifice to Mr. Clean a la Balal. Except this guy's place isn't dirty, and you'd cry if anyone ever got in there and changed a thing. There are probably a dozen rooms in there, but the only indicator that you've gone from point A to point B is the vaguely changing themes. One room nods a head to the Victorian era, one is exclusively designated for evil, and you've got the harder to get to but oh so worth it genie loft and underground "futurisitc" basement room with a real, honest to god sensory deprivation tank, which is of course full of stuff so the point is a little lost, unless you count the complete and utter sensory overload as an eventual deprivation of sense. or sanity. There is a great 360 of one of the main rooms downstairs here. It takes a long time to load and looks like it's in blurry black and white for a few minutes but trust me, it's worth it.
Among my favorite pieces in his enormous collection were: at least 4 pickled punks, a real guillotine, with a little dried blood on the blade, an outstanding collection of yee oldee medicinary tools, including a couple of those giant scary syringes, I love those!! The best thing about Steve Bard's house, and there a million, is that he collects everything, and I mean every. thing. So it's not like he's above the Spencer's Gift novelty sitting atop a gold lame framed Bosch reproduction. And Steve himself is not the type of man you'd expect to be hosting this carnival of oddities, he's not crazy at all, unless you count the facct that he works at Boeing. I'm not sure what working at Boeing entails or what has happened historically to create the reputation that it has as a place of employment, but every time I hear anyone speak of working there it's with wide, wide eyes and hushed whispers, like a crew of skeckies will come breaking through the walls upon hearing anything but praise for the place that obviously houses some sort of evil.
Anyway, that's my Saturday. Now it's onto the porch for some Fawlty lemonade and green chile cheese burgers.
:: Shericat 5:50 PM [+] :: speak
1 comments
7.21.2006
stuff that happened
I'm stealing that header from Paul, who I'm not even linking to because there's a link just to the left this here typing. See it? Yeah, there you go. Also, because I'm lazy.
Last weekend I went down to Albuquerque for a very short and hectic visit to see my sister get married. It was actually a lot better than I expected, the wedding was really nice albeit traditional, and my sister was radiant the way only a bride can be. It felt a little weird to be there for the whole thing, and as I wondered why, I realized that two of the half-dozen weddings we've attended for friends and family, we've been late to. I wouldn't consider this much of a big deal if not for the fact that one of them, namely Paul and Marguerite's, was one in which M was supposed to take part in to give a little speech by Woody Allen and being us, we got totally lost driving on the highways of southern Florida and next thing you know, we're rushing up to the building just as Marguerite is sauntering outside for photo ops. Of course we apologized like mad, felt like complete shit, and got some well deserved scolding by a member of the wedding party who shall remain unnamed. Then we were handed some very strong mint juleps and proceeded to forget all about it. I can say that later we made up for it by invading Paul and Marguerite's new apartment, giving them some expensive wine and one of those kingon-looking openers, before buying them pizza avec breadsticks, and then drinking a large portion of their modest wet bar. Aren't we just the greatest friends??
Anyway, I'm getting off topic. So New Mexico was about as expected, very, very, hot. I don't know how on earth I lived there for so many years, and yet as I write this it is pushing 97 degrees in lovely Seattle this fine afternoon. Everyone is just up in arms over this heat wave, and admittedly, it's freaking hot, but I still can't get over that part of me that spent so many summers in New England where it's 98/98 (that's 98 heat/98 humidity for the rest of you). I have a nasty tendency to call people pussies when they complain about the heat out here and lemme tell you, that just gets me all kinds of far with the locals.
So my trip would have been rather uneventful if it weren't for two disparaging phone calls from M while I was out there. The first one informed me that the dog had spent the entire night that M was out playing a show, barking like the dickens. And no, he did not know this because he carries around a baby moniter everywhere he goes, as you may think. Rather, we got a note on the door from the neighbors behind us notifying us that at 12 midnight she was still barking and are we doing something about it? Thankfully, they are also dog people and with the proper libations, a.k.a. a nice bottle of wine, they were more than willing to listen to our pleas that we are not stupid dog people and that we are definitley trying to work on the issue with Saffie, meaning that we don't leave her alone this week. ugh. The second piece of news, delivered not 12 hours later, was that the computer croaked. Again. You have to understand that M does not get upset about very much at all. He wakes up with no blankets on a chilly night while I'm cocooned in an impenetrable fortress of comforter, he laughs this off. I get too drunk one night and threaten to vomit in the back of a taxi, leaving us stranded many, many blocks from home, which just so happen to be uphill of our place and there is no way in hell I'm walking, he feigns mild annoyance. But when the computer poops out, there is little that I or anyone cna do to console the man, and understandably so, seeing as he just rebuilt the damn thing not one year ago. So anyway, he is now able to work on it, but is completely unsure of how much information has been lost and/or may be recovered, primarily because the German company from who (whom?) he purchased the recovery software will not get back to him about some sort of something that needs to be downloaded or something to make everything magically reappear. And now you understand why he doesn't tell me what's going on with the computer, it's more like:
M: "honey, the computer needs a time out" S: "why? Did it throw a tantrum?"
and so on.
I'm quite sure I had something very profound to end that saga with, but I've now been sitting out on the porch in 97 degree-weather for about 15 minutes and my brain is sizzling like a piece of turkey bacon, so I must bid you adieu and return to the cave that is our apartment. Now with darts!!
:: Shericat 5:20 PM [+] :: speak
0 comments
7.07.2006
ah, that old rockstar life
I know, I know, the blog has been dead, and I swear up and down I'm not resureccting it just to get the chance to shout this to the interweb, but here goes: M and I just figured out that the night of the next big show (not to be confused with the next small show) for Steel Tigers of Death is the same night that the Raconteurs are playing and he and Mike, meaning he and his lovely wife and Mike, are supposed to go to and meet the band. Ok, I don't really know that we're supposed to the meet the band, and I really don't care becuase although I've heard that Jack White is supposed to be a very nice guy, and the music isn't half bad, I seriously don't want to wade through the crowd at a Raconteurs show because I'm an old lady and I don't like the crowds so much anymore if they don't spread for me magically when I walk through, clearing the way for my beer that eventually will spill on myself and everyone else before I get back to my seat. So yeah, the whole rockstar thing is pretty cool. Or funny, depends on how you look at it I suppose.
Speaking of rockstars, while M has been busy recording and mixing and playing the first STD show (yes, they thought of the acronym long, long ago), inbetween long, sweaty bouts of coding for the new Scissor Sisters site, I have been starring in a bit of the rock if I do say so myself. Well, you have replace the word "rock" with "kittens", and "starring" with "squishing", but you get the idea. I got a promotion at work, and now I am the official Foster Care Coordinator, a.k.a. professional kitten squisher. Mostly it means that I get babies out into homes until they are old enough to be spayed or neutered and then adopted. I think this model should serioulsy be considered for the human race, but I think I've got a supporting party of 3 on that one, and the other 2 are on their way over for margeritas and darts this evening, so maybe we're not so smart after all...
The good part about his job is obviously the kittens. There are puppies too, but mostly it's kittens, and I share my office with several of them. They are terrible at filing and god forbid you should ask them to actually write a phone message down, instead of "remembering" it 4 hours later when the whole point it moot, sheesh. But I love them, which would explain why I let them off the hook and stay an hour or two late every day to finish up. God, I'm such a softie!
We also welcomed our newest family member into our home this month, Saffron the dog. She's a big, fat, stinky right now from running through the fountain, bundle of joy, and we love her so much it's disgusting. I know people say that a lot, the disgusting thing, but seriously, strangers on the street vomit spontaneously when they see us loving this dog, so I'm not exaggerating you see. Anyhoo, it appears I'm having a veritable love affair with the comma here, not to be outdone by my love affair with tequila, which is awaiting a sweet, tangy, copulation with some hand-squeezed limes. comma.
:: Shericat 5:43 PM [+] :: speak
1 comments
5.25.2006
and it feels like only yesterday...
We are moving. again. I'm trying not to think about it too much because on top of my entire schedule changing (for the better), the apparent nerve disorder in my foot that is making it impossible for me to ever wear cute shoes again, the bottom tooth that has suddenly started sticking up and to the left, to a degree that I am certain is growing every day and my inability to make an appointment with the dentist because the insurance won't send me a dental card, and the impending scourge of summer visitations that will begin only one week after we've settled at the new place, somehow in there I'm supposed to figure out how to get everything packed and ready to go. It's really sucking, but it's worth it, because the new light at the end of the tunnel, in addition to the big fat porch for grilling and lounging and generally porching, in addition to the very cute new apartment with a much better setup and fake fireplce, in addition to it being only $20 more per month than our current place, which means we are coming in way under budget, we will bring home Saffie the dog and she is awesome.
:: Shericat 12:48 PM [+] :: speak
1 comments
4.30.2006
BOTTLE BABIES!!!

trust me, it's totally as awesome as they look.
:: Shericat 7:38 PM [+] :: speak
3 comments
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