Only in California

License plate holder seen on the way to the airport: God is awesome.

Sigh. I really miss California at times. Say what you will about it - land of fruits and nuts, falling into the sea, gross exaggeration after gross exaggeration - it's never boring.

Bust out the fur

It's been below 60 for the past few days. Saturday it was damp and just overall unpleasant, which only partially explains the preponderance of furs I saw out that night. It reminded me of Italy. Any time it got the slightest bit chilly, all the Italians would haul out their furs for their Sunday pasaggio. One time I even saw a little drop-kick dog wearing a fur coat (in addition to the one he already owned).

Anyways, I'm off to sunnier pastures. The Texan and I leave today for the bright lights and big city of Vegas, where we'll be staying with DustBunny and RoadRunner for a couple of days. Cross your fingers that we arrive in LA - where we'll be spending xmas with the 'rents - with some money still in our bank accounts.

Happy holidays and safe travels to y'all (heh - that's the Texas coming out in me)...

Jingle bells

Today is my office's holiday party. Of course, my enjoyment of it will be somewhat abated by the fact that my office is in DC and I am approximately 1500 miles west of the festivities. I'd be bitter but I still am harboring resentment over last year's party. Not only did they not stock any cheese, but they had an overflowing abundance of seafood products. It's almost like they were trying to insult me.

So instead of getting slightly tipsy on free red wine and staggering back to my desk to "work," I shall research new types of health insurance as I am getting eaten alive with my current premiums. Woo.

***********

Yesterday The Texan and I went to his bank so he could deposit some checks. You know what they still use? Pneumatic tubes! Like in 1984! How cool is that.... it's like Disneyland's Tomorrowland ride come to life.

Finally, it ends

This season's TAR finally, FINALLY ended last night. And you know what? The last two hours were pretty damn good. They reminded me of how it used to be. *sigh*

Anyways, I was pretty happy with the ending. I actually liked the Linzes from the get-go - I found them affable goofs - and they didn't turn on each other or get ugly, which is rare for TAR and doubly so for a family in that close proximity for that length of time (over 600 consecutive hours. yikes). I could've even lived with the Bransons winning, although they seemed to be barely squeaking through each time.

But the important thing was that the Weavers didn't win. I was really hoping that they would show them struggling with the end task - putting together a map of North and Central America - as this was the family who infamously thought that the Great Lakes were in Louisiana and that Washington, DC, was near Washington state. Alas, they were so far behind by that point that they edited that part out (or the producers didn't make them do it at all, something else I would've liked to have seen. This is known as the Guido edit).

BTW: Even though I have been bitterly disappointed with this season, I managed to pull myself out of bed (where I was sulking with a minor case of the flu) so I could watch the show. The love for TAR, it runs deep in my veins.

Best part is that the new season starts in February and it's back to the format I know and love: two-person teams that actually race around the world. Let the games begin!

Happiness is...

...finding a falafel shop in a tamale town. Not that I don't heart tamales...but sometimes a girl's got urges that only chickpeas can meet.

I have GOT to learn...

...that fancy-pants triple-distilled tequila is still tequila. Delicious and oh-so-deadly.

The weather outside is frightful

Seriously, it was 25 degrees when The Texan left for school this morning. All I have to say is that I was sold a bill of goods regarding the balmy South Texan winters.

And what do you normally do when it's below freezing, drizzly, and gusty out? Well, I apparently go outside to hang up xmas lights. My computer network was down yesterday - again - so we decided to run some errands. We bought out what was left of Lowe's xmas lights - some early-birds already got to their icicle collection, the bastards - and came home with very grand plans as to what we were going to do with them. I think at one point we had a schematic design that involved the lights marching down the fence, jumping over into the tree, and then arcing to the front porch.

What we ended up doing? Strands along the two front columns. It was getting *really* cold out; even The Texan, who I have accused of having a nuclear core in his chest (the man is radioactively hot sometimes), was feeling the weather. I think today, if it ever gets above freezing, we're going to try to finish the job. Tis the season and all that.

I bet a mosque wouldn't dare put this sign up

Driving home from dropping The Texan off at school, I passed by one of those churches that has the constantly-changing billboard out front. I usually read it, out of idle curiosity more than anything. Today's message surprised me a bit: it bragged that the church had special "cell" study groups. Must be nice to be a Christian - and therefore above suspicion - group.

Was there a secret handshake or something?

Saturday night, The Texan and I were outed...as Democrats in a better-dead-than-red Republican city.

We were at our favorite wine bar. I was examining the list, trying to figure out which new wine I wanted to try*, when a 20-something, clean-cut guy in a suit came up and started talking to The Texan. Now, in DC, this guy would've been one of the many former frat boys who are now hard-core conservatives, so I figured that here in San Antonio, this would've been more of the same.

His first topic of conversation didn't undo any of my stereotypes, as he was asking us about good rums (he'd overheard Tex ordering a rum and coke, and he wanted to get a good one for his dad). Having just been to Guatemala and bought two bottles of what's supposed to be the best rum in the world**, I was more than happy to share my knowledge.

Then the guy goes on to say that he doesn't know much about rums, as he's a scotch drinker. He says, "Yeah, I decided that it was high time us Democrats took scotch back from the Republicans." HOW DID HE KNOW? Did we accidentally flash a sign? Was it The Texan's long hair? Was it merely because we were in a wine bar? At any rate, I was stoked to meet a fellow Dem, and we spent the next few minutes chatting away. I don't know what sorts of pheromes we were exuding, but I hope that this continues for the future. It's been nice meeting people who aren't your typical inside-the-Beltway Dems, but it's also pleasant to talk with someone about politics and not have to bite your tongue.

* I ended up ordering a South African pinotage, which I'd heard of only because a few months before I left DC, my book club accepted the inevitable and became a wine club. We tried to class it up by picking a region (South Africa) so that we could at least pretend we were learning, but still... Anyways, Saturday night, when I asked for the pinotage, the bartender had to call in his boss, who then explained to me that no one had ever asked for that wine. Once he knew where it was from, he was able to dig up a bottle for me, and it was lovely if a bit fruity.

**http://www.ronzacapacentenario.com/. Thanks again for the tip, RollerDiscoMonkey!

This is why I didn't want a computer in my home

It's 5:30 in the morning. I woke up, was restless and couldn't sleep, and decided the best way to lull myself to sleep was to check email. God help me if I get up and start on-line shopping in the middle of the night, since that's next in the internet's slow stranglehold on my life.

Setting down roots

Part of the fun of moving to a new place is getting to check out the haunts, which are all new and sparkly in your eyes. Not that DC was getting shop-worn by any stretch of the imagination, but it's nice to have a whole new world to explore. (And that place is called "the suburbs.")

Anyways, last night The Texan and I went to meet a bunch of his friends at a beerhall known as the Flying Saucer. Its clientele is largely male, which I'm sure has everything to do with the billions of beers they offer and nothing whatsover to do with the fact that the waitstaff is, to a T, a) 21 years old, tops; b) wearing short schoolgirl plaid skirts and knee-high socks; c) extremely attractive, goddammit. Be that as it may, I enjoyed an evening of sampling beers from all over the world. I ended up really liking some Austin brews, which I admit isn't too far afield from San Antonio, but for me, it's brand spanking new. Also nice was that they actually had all their beers in stock. DC residents have all experienced going to the Brickskellar, which brags of having been in the Guinness Book of World Records as having the most amount of beers to offer and yet always, ALWAYS is out of your first three picks. Finally, they do poppers as god intended them: with cheddar cheese, not cream cheese. Two thumbs up.