Mini Me

Looking back, I guess it started when we got that precious miracle angel baby Gigi. Who knew what that would start? I did not really think of the toy poodle as being a smaller version of something normal sized. But, I guess it is.

Then, Shlomo and I had the moment of weakness known as Coral—our little Smart car. Well, it's been about a month on that one. I have no regrets. I love that car. I drive it everyday. Creepers (the Jeep Cherokee) pretty much permanently lives in the garage at this point.

Then today, I got a netbook. My laptop needed a new battery and it was only a marginal difference in the price of a new battery to facilitate travel or the netbook. At 2.5 pounds, the netbook won.

I did not really see a trend developing until this evening. However, evidently I have a fetish for things that are smaller than normal. Oh, and I had sliders for lunch. What do we think this means? Maybe I can find a therapist who will do a mini-session to discuss.

Coral

Earlier this summer for my birthday, Shlomo gave me a beautiful pair of vintage coral cufflinks with matching tuxedo studs. I had been obsessed with them for a few months. I loved them. I planned (okay, bought) numerous outfits around them. Cufflinks + numerous outfits = most expensive pair in my collection...by far.

So last Saturday, when we got home from our trip to Alaska, Shlomo and I went to one of our favorite local restaurants for dinner. As I was getting in the car, I heard something hit the console between the two front seats. I looked on my cuff, one of the coral cabachons was missing.

I knew it was in the car. That was a good thing. I could not find it, however. That was a bad thing. I was devastated. Shlomo had to leave the next day for a business trip parking his car at the airport. I remained devastated. I convinced myself that I would never find it. Since they were vintage and perfectly matched, I knew that a repair would probably never be good enough. I knew it was a material possession and not incredibly important in the whole scheme of life, but it was frustrating beyond belief.

Then, yesterday (this Saturday), Shlomo had the idea that we would take his car to the dealership for them to look for it. He sweetly said he would have them pull out the seats if necessary. He knows how I obsess over such things. After all, he lived through the three-month obsession prior to the purchase of said cufflinks and presentation as the perfect 35th birthday present. (For those not in the know, coral is the traditional 35th anniversary gift. It was the 35th anniversary of my birth. This is the one and only time I will admit that. 22, people...I am 22.)

Okay, I digressed. Anyway, we get to the dealership. The attendant moved the passenger seat up and back. He then took it back to the service area. We went into the showroom. It was cool in there. Okay, it would have been cooler in the bowels of hell. It's roughly 100 degrees every day here. I don’t handle heat well. So, we walk (I might have sashayed) into the showroom. There we see this.



Shlomo and I had driven one on Martha's Vineyard last summer. We love the little smart car convertibles. They always seem so fun...if somewhat impractical. We joked about how fun it would be to tool around in it on the weekends. I could drive it to class. Ha. Ha. Wouldn't it be nice…

Moments later, I see them pull Shlomo's car around. We walked out. The attendant did his best Joey Tribianni fake-out and then handed us the coral cabachon. We smiled. I might have teared up a little. We tipped the guy. We then headed directly to a jeweler to have it reset and the settings checked on the other one and the studs.

Oh, as for the Smart car, we pick her up on Tuesday or Wednesday. We went back to the dealership after the jeweler and made a deal. That's right. I put more thought into a pair of socks every morning. I have decided we will call her "Coral." I know, I know…Smart Car, Dumb Driver. We are struggling to justify a third car, but let’s face it…Coral is not the first ridiculous purchase we have made…and she probably won’t be the last. Cufflinks + numerous outfits + Smart Car = Really Expensive Cufflinks.

**********************************UPDATE*************************************************************************************************************************

Shlomo wants me to point out that Coral is a little over a year old and has 7500 miles on her. Shlomo has also expressed disbelief at my age being 22. I have spent enough on products for that lousy combination skin of mine, that 22 is what I can pass for. Shlomo's new address will be as follows:

The Doghouse
One Doghouse Lane
Dogpatch, AR

Rumor Has It...

After teaching myself American Art, abandoning Third World Politics at midterms, a brief sojourn to Miami and a wonderful time cruising in Alaska, rumors persist that I will be returning to the blog in a week or so. I just want to get back in a schedule of some sort when classes resume. We will catch up soon.

I Got a Face Tattoo

So, I am chatting with a friend at school today and somehow managed to mark on my own cheek with my pen. Here is an illustration:

Before



Please note that for the purpose of this illustration, I added some golden highlights for summer. In real life, they do not exist. The pale skin however is not an exaggeration.

After



To make matters worse, about 30 minutes later, I was in the library working on a paper that is due tomorrow (panic mode!) and managed to mark on my lip with my orange Le Pen. So now, I look something like this.



I know. Classy right? So now, I am at desk 27 in the library hoping no one notices me.

All About Shlomo…in 1640 Words

Earlier this week, Shlomo and I celebrated his birthday in Chicago. It was chilly. When I left, it was 7:00 in the morning and already 84 degrees in Houston. When I landed, it was 66 degrees in Chicago with a strong chance of rain. This did not make me sad. I will be honest, I had a new rain jacket that I was dying to wear. Shlomo had been to a conference there that ended on his birthday. I showed up on his birthday so we would have the afternoon and evening in the Windy City. We had the following morning, as well. But, for me it was a very fast trip.

So, in our afternoon of shopping and visiting art galleries (note: visiting galleries, not buying…damn recession), I suggested to Shlomo that since we were in a city that might actually have jackets in the stores (as opposed to Houston where it is hard to find anything larger than a speedo in the summer months), he should look for one to take on our trip to Alaska later this summer. In our first stop, we found one. It was what I had in mind, actually. In fact, I told him to ask for it specifically. I thought he would like it. He did. It was reasonably priced. Shlomo was thrilled to not have to go to 90 other stores looking at jackets.

Poor Shlomo, he did not realize that 90 other stores were what I had planned for the afternoon. But, it was a bit nippy and he put it on—especially if we were walking in the shade. So, we are walking down Michigan Avenue doing a little window shopping. I hoped it would be actual shopping, but nothing jumped out at me. Suddenly, I hear someone shouting, "Anshel! Anshel! Anshel!" It was one of my best friends from back home. I knew she and her husband were going to be in Chicago that week, but I knew how fast my trip was and how much I wanted to do. As a result, I made the choice to not tell her and let fate decide if I saw her or not. Fate clearly felt we should see them. So, we visited outside Burberry for a few minutes and went our separate ways. Seriously! It is a small world. And, clearly I cannot escape Yokelville no matter where I go or what I do.

We went into a couple of more stores slowly meandering down to the original Marshall Field's (which is sadly now a Macy's). Specifically, I wanted to see the glass mosaic dome by Louis Comfort Tiffany that was built towering 7 stories over what is now the cosmetics section. This term, I am writing a research paper on LCT and thought this would me an important piece to include. Simply, it is amazing. Also, on a brighter note, I found a pair of pajama bottoms that I had been wanting for 40% off. That alone made getting up at 5:00 a.m. to catch a plane to fly pretty much from the southern to the northern borders of the US worth it. Seriously, that $12 savings made it all worthwhile.

In case you did not know, Shlomo is not a patient shopper. Unless it is for him. Then he has all the time in the world. He had gone outside to wait on me. Also, I think to ensure that I would look at nothing else. Yeah, Shlomo. I had had three hours sleep. I needed a nap, too. So, I get outside and we walk towards the hotel. We had made it about half a block when I noticed that his new jacket looked somehow different. We stopped to wait to cross the street and I realized what it was. The conversation went something like this.

Me: Is your jacket on wrong side out?

Shlomo: I don't think so.

Me: Then all of the seams are on the outside.

Shlomo: Well, I guess the label is on the outside. (He changes his jacket to be worn the right way.)

Me: Dumbass.

I guess I should clear a few things up. Yes, there is an embroidered item on the back of the collar that says the name of the brand. Sadly, it is not Armani. Second, "Dumbass" is and always has been a term of affection in my family.

So, we went to the hotel. We rested. We enjoyed a wonderful dinner at Joe's Stone Crab. I ate so much. Shlomo ate so much. We went back to the hotel and crashed. Yep, asleep by 11:00. Our wild nightlife never ends.

The next morning, we got up and were headed in the rain (yippee! Another justification to wear my jacket!) to the Art Institute. I spent last semester researching Seurat and wanted to view Sunday on the Isle of La Grande Jatte—1884 one more time. It was an eight block walk. We made it about half of a block and Shlomo managed to—how shall I put this delicately—totally mess up the zipper of his new jacket. The jacket has a double zipper pull so if you are cool, happening, and have a flat belly you can unzip it a bit from the bottom to look cool. As I think all three of things are overrated and Shlomo is/has none of them, one zipper pull would be sufficient. So, I look at him and the bottom of one side of the jacket is zipped so it lines up with the middle of the other side. Thus, it left at least half of his stomach exposed. Seriously, where was my camera?

So, not full of patience and maybe using a lovely moniker from the day before, I offered demanded to help. God punished me. I am trying to unzip the jacket and balance my umbrella under my chin. A gust of wind (it is the windy city, after all) blows my umbrella inside out and breaks three of the spokes. Yep, I am screwed. Conversation like this:

Me: There's a cab. We are getting in, fixing your jacket, and going to my mecca to get me another umbrella. (I loved that umbrella. It was substantial enough not to lose it, but small enough to fit in my bookbag/suitcase and take no room. And, I figured out a long time ago that $5 ones from the drugstore are good for one, maybe two rainy days.)

Shlomo: What about the Museum?

Me: Screw the museum. I am getting wet.

So, we get to the store at 9:58. They open at 10:00. Conveniently, there was covered walkway where we actually fixed Shlomo's zipper. Yep, pretty proud of myself. I unstuck a zipper. Higher education pays. We are walking to the store…and by to the store, I mean in front of three windows…Shlomo decides to zip his jacket. Same exact thing. I walk in and turned him over to the first salesgirl I saw. This was about me. I needed an umbrella. Shlomo should have learned about zippers in the first grade. I am no first grade teacher.

I found a similar umbrella. I kid you not, it was three times as much. Also, it was in the women's section, but a black umbrella is a black umbrella. I did not get it. I said I would go up to menswear on the sixth floor to get one exactly like the one I had. Shlomo opted to stay on the first floor to get directions to a breakfast place. I was gone a while. I thought Shlomo would be coming up. He never did. To his chagrin, I managed to spend the price differential plus $10 on the coolest hat. (FYI: I make Hugh Grant look tan. Skin cancer prevention is very important to me. Not as important as being stylish, but important, nonetheless.) Shlomo claims to hate said hat. I don't care. I love it. I have a big head. I have to buy a hat when I find one I like that fits. Seriously, it's an XL. Further proof of my big head is I have a picture of me, Shlomo, and Jane Fonda. My head is like three times the size of hers.

So, we ate breakfast and returned home. Shlomo had a very happy birthday. Well, he better have had one. He claims to. Personally, I was glad it was successful. It also means we could start focusing on my birthday. I am totally a juvenile about gifts. I made Shlomo open his antique wine decanter a month ago. I think I deserve mine early. Finally, today, Shlomo relented. He gave me the most beautiful tuxedo set (cufflinks and studs) made of coral. I cannot wait to wear it. I am considering wearing my tuxedo around the house tomorrow in fact. I don't know where he ever got the idea. It is all I have talked about for weeks. I mention it every time we drive by the antique store where we found them. As it is about three blocks from our house, I think he bought them just to shut me up. I know I am horrible on the gift receiving front. I have no patience and I hate surprises. I blame my mother.

Still (don't read further if you do not have a strong gag reflex), my greatest gift is Shlomo himself. He constantly makes me laugh—both with and at him. He brings so much joy to my life that I don't want to think about it without him. When I wake up on July 5 in a new Nielsen demographic for the first time in 17 years, I will know that middle age is okay because I get to share it with someone as great as Shlomo.

Phone Home

So we all know that I am watching How I Met Your Mother this summer as part of my attempt to find some new shows. Clearly, I do not spend enough time watching tv. On one of the episodes today, one of the guys bought a British phone booth. It was supposed to be a ridiculous thing. Now, I totally want a British phone booth. I don't know why, but I think that would be fun. Can't you just see some big red phone booth in our entry way?

It would not be the first time we made a questionable purchase. We have this for Gigi...remember? (FYI: Not Gigi in the photo.)

She does not sleep in it yet. But one day, she might stay in it for more than 30 seconds. It was totally worth the ridiculous amount of money we paid for it. My cousin actually called it the Taj Majal. She was not that far off.

I need to by ironing. Instead, I am procrastinating. I don't think I really need to explain why do I?

Shock of shocks, I am not-so-patiently waiting for some books to be delivered from UPS. Don't even get me started on those bastards.

Shlomo is mad at me because I refer to and call Gigi "Monster." It was not really an issue for him until she started answering to it. He has no problem when I call the other dogs "monkeys" or "turtles" or "girly girls." Okay, they pretty much answer to anything. And, based on her teething, right now "Monster" is not entirely inaccurate. World's cutest monster. That's our Gigi.

Jon and Kate Plus Eight = People I do not care about. Remember when gossip was about real celebrities. Burt and Loni, come back.

Oh well, I guess I am off to watch another episode of HIMYM and possibly iron. Who am I kidding? I am going to watch the show and look for a phone booth on ebay.

 

 

 

School’s In…for Summer

So…summer school starts tonight. For the next several weeks, I will be focused on American Art. Then, I will spend a few weeks devoted to Politics of the Third World. You might be thinking, "Wow! Anshel has had a really nice break between the spring semester and summer school." Well, there is a reason for that. Summer classes were supposed to start last week. My professor somehow got confused. She thought classes were supposed to start this week. She did not show up. For reals.

I was not that surprised. I had her for a class last semester. During that time, she managed to lose the entire class's papers. I am not saying she is an idiot. I would never say that about a professor. I will leave you to draw your own conclusion.

In the meantime, I have enjoyed the extra break. It was kind of nice to have a break that was unplanned, so I did not plan anything to fill it. As witnessed by our trips, Shlomo and I really do not know how to take it easy. We cram six Broadway shows into four days in New York. We go to Chicago for a weekend and see a play, a concert, fourteen galleries, a couple of museums, among other things. I think you get the picture: relaxation is not something we do well. Go. Go. Go. So, the break was nice.

I will try to do better with the posting this summer. I know I have kind of taken a bit of a break as late. What can I say? After writing my papers for class, I needed a break. But, I will try to do better. That is…until Third World Politics starts kicking my bootay!

 

I Hate UPS

I have been the victim of a vast conspiracy. I am not sure who is to blame. Although, I do suspect the cast of The Office. Here's the dealio: I decided that I would take this summer while tv is totally in the doldrums to catch up on a couple of shows so I could add them to my regular viewing in the fall. I chose 30 Rock and How I Met Your Mother as we were lacking on the comedy-front in our viewing habits.

I ordered season one of 30 Rock from amazon.com. As soon as finals were over, I watched the whole season in about 3 days. I could not get enough. I even laughed out loud on occasion. Gigi gave me the strangest looks. I don't think she got the humor. So, I could see that a problem was arising. I was going to need season two pronto or I would be faced with daytime television during the rest of my break before summer classes started. I immediately ordered it and paid the extra $3.99 for overnight shipping.

It came the next day. However, there was one slight problem. Our mailbox is really just a slot in the garage door. Someone (I won't say who, Shlomo) was not looking as they drove into the garage and drove over my dvds. The packaging was destroyed, but I thought the dvds survived. I tried to play them: opening still shot of first scene on disk to last credit of last episode all in a span of 2 seconds. It was our fault (by our, I mean Shlomo's) so I ordered another copy. Again, I paid the extra $3.99 for overnight shipping.

The following day, I religiously checked the progress of my package delivery on the UPS website. It said "Out for delivery" all day. At 10:00 that night, I determined it would not be delivered that day. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I have gotten packages at 9:30 recently. I emailed amazon for a refund of the overnight shipping. They happily obliged. The next day, however, still no dvds. I checked the UPS website. It showed that it was delivered mid-day. I was home all day. There was no way it was delivered without my knowing it. Still, I checked all around our front door. I also checked all around our neighbors' front doors. No package.

Again, I emailed amazon. I got a prompt response that they would ship out another copy at no charge. Long story short: it was the same thing all over again. UPS said it was delivered. I had no dvds. I was even in the driveway at the time they showed it was delivered. (I just happen to know what time I left to go get my mom at the airport as I was running late. I was not sitting in the driveway with a brewsky waiting. I have a life. Clearly, I do. I told you I watched a whole season in less than three days.) At this point, I decided I should call the fine folks at amazon.com. I tried calling UPS first. They were no help. They are never helpful. This was the Friday evening of the holiday weekend. They promised to once again ship a copy on Tuesday (overnight, of course) at no additional charge. I felt the need to exlpain that I was not trying to scam them for 18 copies of the second season of 30 Rock. All they would have to do is check my order history and know that I am a stand-up guy who never complains. In fact, I probably order enough to be customer of the year. Have I mentioned that I often use them to supplement the library for my research?

Finally, on Wednesday, I received my copy of season 2. I have also now watched it as it was a short season due to that pesky writers' strike of 2007. Don't even get me started on the painful memories of how that messed up my life. I can report that there was no sophomore slump. It, too, was hilarious. Now, I am just a year behind. Season 3 does not come out until later this summer on dvd. In the meantime, season one of HIMYM is scheduled to arrive on Monday. Why do I get the feeling that UPS will once again be providing material for my blog?

Insomnia, Reconciliation, and More

I cannot sleep. I don't know what my deal is. School is out. Summer school is yet to start. I am wide awake. Shlomo was out of town for the past few nights, so I blamed it on that. He is back. I am wide awake. I don't understand. I literally have no stress at the moment. What is wrong?

It's not like I have not taken steps. Believe me, tonight I took steps. I cut off the caffeine at 3:00 this afternoon. I had a martini at dinner. Shit, I just realized I had a cappuccino with dessert. I am so stupid. My stupid attempt to stay awake at Happy Days: A New Musical has come back to bite me in my considerable derriere. By the way, there was no need to even attempt to stay awake. It was not good. We left at intermission. We never leave at intermission. I decided life is too short—especially if there is a little apricot toy poodle bundle of joy angel with fur waiting for you at home.

On a brighter note, I can report that William Shakespeare and I have reconciled today. We broke up the day before the final in my Shakespeare class. I was over it. He and I were no longer friends. I knew going into the final that I was borderline A/B. I studied furiously, but accepted that it would wind up a B. Today, when grades came out, much to my surprise it went the other way. I still have no Bs on my transcript. Yay me. I am not sure how it happened, by the way. Yes, I knew I had a good essay answer. It should have been good. I wrote it the day before. I knew I got the fill in the blank part. You were supposed to answer 10 of 14 questions. I knew all 14. I answered all 14 to show him that I paid attention. I hoped he would take that into consideration after the quote identification. I suck at quote identification. I beyond suck. If you said it, don't expect me to identify it. If you paint it, I know it. If you sculpt it, I know it. If you have a character say it, it goes in one ear and out the other. But, I still might reread As You Like It this summer. Don't waste your time calling me nerd, or dweeb, or putz in the comments section. I already know. I embrace my nerdiness. Always have.

Well, I guess I will sign off. I might take a Benadryl. I might not. I don't have to get up for anything in the morning. Shlomo is off from work. Maybe a drug-induced coma in the middle of the night is not such a bad idea.

Oh, and I have an out-of-print reading recommendation. Before I suggest it, please keep in mind that I have just spent a semester immersed in the Victorian novel and the works of the Bard. However, I am currently loving Every Night, Josephine by the original doyenne of dish Jacqueline Susann. You can find copies on Amazon. It is the story of her adventures with her little beloved poodle, Josephine. With little Gigi now, I can totally relate. But, I don't think you even have to be a dog lover to love this book. It's a fun, easy beach read. All that is missing is the beach. You hear that Shlomo…beach. Hey, a guy can hint—especially if his birthday is coming up.

 

Gigi is in the Doghouse

Okay, I have tried to spare you from stories about the miracle angel baby with fur otherwise known as Gigi. But, I have to share this. Suffice it to say, she is spoiled. Like our entire lives revolve around her spoiled.

Granted, we did not take her to New York last weekend. But, she was very well cared for at the vet. I don't know that she was ever in her boarding area. They sent pictures. She was super happy. We missed her terribly. She got a new blinged-out collar and a dog toy in the shape of a purse. It's a Chewy Vuitton. After all, she is a designer kind of girl.

But tonight, things have gone horribly awry. I would take the blame, but I was on a different floor. Shlomo took her upstairs to feed her dinner. She ate. He opened the door and was looking for his robe. Evidently, Gigi was allowed to run amok. I am not saying it is Shlomo's fault, but I never let her feet touch the floor. She is a princess and deserves to be carried at all times.

Anyhoo, Shlomo lets her walk over and urinate on her adorable little bed from Harry Barker and her Chewy Vuitton. WTF Gigi? Chewy Vuittons do not grow on trees. If you keep this up, you are never going to get Jimmy Chews. For shizzle.

So, there you have it. She is in the dog house. Well, she would be. But the one we want goes on sale tomorrow for one day only. We plan to order it then. I am sure there will be some four to six week delivery period. So, as soon as it gets here...she will be in the doghouse. Given how cute it is, though, we should all be so lucky. In the meantime, Shlomo can be in the doghouse. I am sure he has done something to deserve it.

I'm Still Here

Just so you know, I have not totally abandoned the blog. I have just been super busy with papers, presentations, exams, trips to the Big Apple, and hanging with Jane Fonda. Oh yeah, you read that right. Jane Freakin' Fonda.

While in NYC, Shlomo and I saw the brilliant play that she is brilliant in 33 Variations. We also saw Guys and Dolls, 9 to 5: The Musical, Blithe Spirit, Exit the King, and Rooms: A Rock Romance. We were only there four days, so it was a lot of theatre. I like a lot of theatre. But, it has cramped my style as far as doing anything else. I did no work while we were there (It is typically frowned upon to pull out a pc in the middle of the Nederlander Theatre). But I have paid the price this week. I thought I had done a lot of pre-work for this week, but evidently not enough.

So anyway, I guess I am off to explore Anti-Semitism in The Merchant of Venice. Yep, it's definitely there. I just have to figure out what to say about it for ten pages or so.

Thank Heaven...for Little Girls

Those words were very famously sung by Maurice Chevalier about the title character in the movie musical Gigi. For some reason, they had a profound effect on Shlomo. For months (possibly years), we have joked about the possibility of our next dog--probably a yorkiepoo or a maltipoo--to be named Gigi. Joining a little mutt named Fargo and a pug named Lulu, I decided that Gigi sounded too gay...even for us. Therefore, I have always rejected the name Gigi.

Well, I have a midterm tomorrow. Today, I was in the library all afternoon studying. As we were finishing brunch before I went, I asked Shlomo what he was going to do while I was gone. He responded, "Oh, I don't know. Go get Gigi." I said, "Fine, but the name expires at midnight tonight. Either you get her today, or the name is not Gigi." Yippee! I won! We would not have the gayest dog in the world. Well, allow me to introduce Gigi.



That's right. This is our toy poodle puppy. She is adorable. I have to admit...I baited Shlomo just a bit. I had to look up something on the computer so I sent him a couple of ads for maltipoos. Ha! Ha! Very funny. Then, a bit later, I called Shlomo to see what he was doing. He said he was calling ads.

Then, this is where the story takes a couple of bizarre turns. I bumped into a friend of mine in the library. She was wearing a pink shirt that said, "Whatever happens at Gigi's house, stays at Gigi's house." WTF? I called Shlomo with the report. Then, a few minutes later he emailed me. He was watching TV and heard "Thank Heaven for Little Girls" being sung in French.

I finished studying and came home. We were both looking at ads. There were very few available. Then, we clicked on an ad and saw here picture. She's not even one of the poo mixes, but somehow we just knew. Shlomo called. We made arrangements to meet the breeder in an hour.

Now, if you buy your toy poodle from a former stripper from Splendora, TX (who claims to have worked with Anna Nicole in a club called Gigi's back in the day), does that make you white trash? If so, Shlomo and I are trash.

Oh well, I am sure there will be many more posts about the menagerie. We used to say we were finished buying art, but we kept on. After the two parrots, we said our zoo was full. Now, I have learned to never say never.

Little Things Previously Unknown

First of all, I am not living on the street. Shlomo finally understood the importance of my sharing a certain story never to be mentioned again. However, under no circumstances am I to call him "Larry".

However, somehow...and I am not sure how...Shlomo found himself under the impression that I share my girl scout cookies. Here's the deal. I love Samoas (or in certain parts of the country--Caramel Delights). It's odd. I don't even like coconut. But I have an unnatural affection for these cookies. I have been known to call the day that girl scout cookies come in the happiest day of the year. I can't explain our history. It's long and it's real.

So, when I ordered the cookies, I consulted Shlomo. He did not mention the caramel delights. I did not order him any. I ordered him thin mints (only good from the freezer in my book), shortbread (there are many other good shortbread cookies), and the peanut butter sandwiches (which are not Nutter Butters if you know what I'm sayin'). Anyhoo, I ordered myself only two boxes. I know to pace myself and to not overindulge.

Tonight, was the night. I broke them out. From that second I carefully opened the package, the smell transported me to near ecstacy. I quickly devoured two cookies. And then, get a load of this, Shlomo took one. Can you believe that? Seriously?!?!?! He could not believe I was upset. I don't eat his trail mix. I even make coconut pie (which I don't even really like) just for him. I say that entitles me to hog the Samoas.

Granted, it was probably not the nicest thing for me to shout, "Back off, Bitch!" It was so bad that Lulu the pug hid in her crate. I might have overreacted. But choosing between Shlomo and the other love of my life is a tough call. Seriously. I guess I choose Shlomo, but only because I can't get Samoas for 11 months of the year.

Do we think it is possible to stage some sort of a letter writing campaign to get the girl scouts to make cookies year round? Isn't it time?

Back to School

Spring break is over. It's a sad day. Sad...because I had goals for spring break. I was going to read two books. I was going to finish a paper and start another. I was going to bring peace to the middle east. None of these things happened.

Shlomo and I did get away last weekend for some rest and relaxation in San Antonio. You know, a rainy Saturday in a walking city brings about some rest and relaxation. We slept late, ate a lot, and had a great time.

I do have a story to share, but do not tell Shlomo I told you. Shlomo has the habit of using some malapropisms on occasion. For example, he often reverses two words or if a word in the name of something is plural he leaves off the "S". In his world, we go the "Stages Deli" in New York and frequent the productions of "Stage Repertory Theatre" here in Houston.

However, last Friday was quite possibly his best use, or rather misuse, of the English language. You should know that in the tiny town where I grew up, Sonic was one of three dining establishments. I love the Sonic. It is my comfort food. It is something I have introduced to Shlomo. He was unaware of the joy that is their cheese tots. Clearly, this situation had to be rectified.

He was also introduced to my favorite drink: the cherry limeade. Shlomo struggles with this. He often calls it the Lime Cherryade. However, this past week, he became so tongue-tied that he called it a "Larry Chimeade." I am sorry, but I have to make fun of that. It is freakin' hilarious. Larry Chimeade. Seriously? I smile every time I think about it.

Shlomo...yeah, he is not so amused. He is embarassed. I don't know why. I mostly find it endearing. Okay, I don't find all of his malapropisms endearing, but this one is. He gets mad if I call him "Larry." Why? Shlomo, I am laughing with you.

So, he threatened to break up with me if I blogged about this. It has been a week. I can't not share it. It is too good. Shlomo, I love you more than anything. This thing is one of the things I love most about you. If you don't understand that, we can go to counseling...or I can live on the streets if that is what you want.

Public Service Announcement

Okay, there are many reasons that I blog. Initially, it was something that would force me to write on a daily basis. However, grad school kind of took care of that. Now it is simply to inform and entertain. Okay, it's usually more likely to be to whine, bitch, complain, or name-call and blame. You know who you are, Shlomo.

However, today's entry is different. It's about charity. That's right. I am giving. You are receiving. So, here you go. If you have a 31 Flavors that you like to frequent as Shlomo and I do, you have to try the Premium-Churned Milk Chocolate. OMG. It is delish. And, here's the good part. It is 50 percent less fat. Now, I do not know what it is 50 percent less than, but I am sure the fine folks at Baskin Robbins can tell you. So, there you go.

The more you know…and star shooting across the screen.

Later, I might do a test of the emergency broadcast system. But, don't worry…if I do and it is an actual emergency, the sound you hear will be followed by information telling you what to do. However, this is only a test.

I Know I Should Be Studying

Yeah… I know…midterm on Wednesday…blah, blah, blah.

However, I have a few things to share. First of all, I finished my first paper for my Shakespeare class. I think it is decent. Okay, it might actually be good. Even if I managed to talk about Lady Macbeth's menstrual cycle for a page and a half… Oh, I also used the word "transgendered." This is not your grandmother's Shakespeare.

More importantly, I have to tell about last night. Shlomo and I had tickets to see the national tour of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. We had no desire to see it. The reviewers had even said it was pretty "chitty." So, we took the opportunity to abandon our plans and have dinner with glass artist Toots Zynsky, a local gallery owner, and a local collector. Shlomo and I are fortunate to own a piece that Toots made. Before I go on about the evening, I will tell you a few things about Toots. She is literally world-renowned. She developed a technique for making vessels out of glass that she has pulled into thread-like structures. Her work is amazing. It is currently featured in exhibits at both the Museum of Fine Arts Houston and the Houston Center for Contemporary Craft. She has exhibited in galleries and museums all over the world. She founded Pilchuk with Dale Chihuly and is nothing short of a genius. And, she is nice to boot.

Shlomo and I felt honored to be asked to join her. We have a relatively small collection of glass art at about 15 pieces. It seems like a lot but we know people who have 100+ pieces. We are truly still in the novice category of collecting. The other collector, who shall remain nameless, is in her 80s. She is an amazing woman herself. She was also the only person with a vehicle that would hold all five of us to go to dinner.

We went to the original Ninfa's. (Mama Ninfa, as she was known, is credited with inventing the fajita.) I mean nothing bad when I say this, but it is in the barrio. It is just a fact. It's on the east side of Houston. To get there from our starting location meant two major freeways and some unfamiliar surface roads.

That collector in her 80s…yeah, she insisted that if we took her car she would drive. I have no other way to say this. It was frightening beyond frightening. And, I ride with Shlomo every day. No offense Shlomo…you know I love you…but your ADD does not help your driving skills. You know that's true. When we first pulled out onto the street, she darted between two cars. My life flashed before my eyes. We got lost three times on the way to the restaurant. When we finally did get there, a round of margaritas was ordered for everyone except collector/driver. She had iced tea. I secretly was hoping she would drink, I would abstain and insist on driving home. No one needs a DUI…even if you are in your 80s.

The drive home was no better. Oh, and did I mention that I was in the middle of the backseat on a hump? Yep, one false move and I was flying through that windshield head first. There was no safe route…highways were bad…surface streets were bad. Yep. We went down a one way street the WRONG way. Life flashing, people. Life flashing. Toots asked me if I prayed. I assured her I did. I pointed out I was Jewish, but crossed myself for good measure. Allah, can you hear me? Buddha, I am leaving no stone unturned. Hindu gods, hear my prayer. Jedi knights, guide me home.

We made it. In one piece. But if you drive in Houston, I will say this: if you see a big, honkin' silver Lexus headed down the street in your direction, take cover. I really like collector/driver, but I hope I never have to ride with her again.

Toots then came over to our house for a little plum upside down cake I had made and the three of us talked about art, glass, art glass, literature, politics, families, etc. until past midnight. It is a night Shlomo and I will not soon forget.

Got Crabs?

So, I should be reading Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen. Instead, I am going to share a little story that happened last night.

After my class (which sucks by the way...it's graduate school...we don't need to watch a film...lazy professor), Shlomo and I went to a very nice seafood restaurant where they are having all-you-can-eat Stone Crabs on Monday nights. I should clear this up for you: stone crabs might be my favorite food. I think they are delicious and the best part is, the crab does not die. They pull off its claw and it regenerates a new one. Yes, it might be painful, but it is not death.

Another thing you should know: stone crabs are expensive. It is rare that I get to indulge in my love for them. On average, it is four times a year. It was a special occasion. Well, it was a special occasion that we went. Other than that, the only special occasion was that Monday night is the only night Shlomo and I will dine together this week. I know...poor Shlomo...he deserves the pleasure of my company every night.

Anyway, there is a price for six claws on the menu with two side items. For five dollars more, you can have as many as you want with unlimited sides. Here's the deal, I went to the Grace Adler school of all-you-can-eat feasting (scroll to scene three). The cardinal rule: do not fill up on the unimportant stuff. Order a salad, eat roughly 30 percent only to prepare the palate. Order one side and one side only. Eat small bites of it only while you are waiting for them to bring more of the crabs...the big ticket item. Avoid the breadbasket at all costs.

Needless to say, I totally followed my plan. Also needless to say, Shlomo did not. He ate bread. He ate most of his salad. He ate a lot of the side. He only ate six claws. I, on the other hand, stuck it to the man. That's right...eleven claws. I know gluttony is not something to brag about. However, more than getting your money's worth--especially in today's economy--is.

We all know I adore Shlomo. I can occasionally talk about how much I love him until even I am nauseated. But, hopefully he learned an important lesson last night. Filler foods are just that: filler. Do not waste your time. If we ever go to breakfast at the Plaza, I better not see a danish on your plate, Shlomo. Consider yourself warned. Smoked fishes...that's where the money is.

He's Aliiiiiiiiive

Yep, I know. It's been a while since I have posted. A long while. What can I say? I have been hard at work. Don't even start with the whole "You don't work" bit. I work harder than I ever have before. Anyhoo, sorry Shlomo, I digress.

First, there was the cocktail party for 30 in our house. We were some how conned, I mean talked in to hosting a party for a couple of glass artists who had an opening at our favorite local gallery. Yeah, let's get one thing straight. Okay, gay. I am not, I repeat NOT, a socialite. I don't have parties in my house...especially for people I don't know...even more especially if they happen to be a local celebrity or a world-famous artist. That's not how I roll. I grew up on a farm. Until I was 8, our water came from a well. We had a party line until just before I went to college. I don't do fancy entertaining.

Well, evidently I do. The party was a huge success. The house looked beautiful. Fresh flowers really helped. I would like to give a special thanks to Shlomo for not killing me because I went completely over the flower budget. But, it is over a week later and that tropical arrangement on the breakfast table still looks great. I know there is a recession going on, but the flowers were totally worth it.

The food was delicious. I take no credit for it. We had it catered. Suffice it to say, though, I am good a picking a menu. Shlomo might have helped. And, our signature cocktail "The Opening Night" was a big hit. It is made something like this. Three parts lillet (a french sherry-type libation), one part juniper gin, one part lemon juice, one part simple syrup. Oh yeah, and a maraschino cherry. I am not sure that is proper use of "part", but you get the idea.

Loco bit a local news anchor at the party. It did not draw blood, but it scared her a bit. Honestly, I think she was more upset that Loco might be in trouble. He was, but his grounding is almost over.

So, just when I recovered from that, I entered a place known as paper hell. Later this morning, I have to turn in 10 pages on Sense and Sensibility. I wrote about Fanny Dashwood. I consider it miraculous that I got ten pages on someone who is only mentioned in the book on about 12 pages.

Now, I have to write an equal number of pages about MacBeth or King Lear by next Monday. I have no idea what I am going to write about. I sense a BS delivery coming to Brugghen Street this week. Yep, 10 pages of BS. That's my new goal. By the way, said BS needs to earn an A. It will be good BS.

So, that's where I have been. Sadly, I have not been sunning myself on the beaches of Mallorca. Hell, I would settle for Galveston at this point. However, I just have to make it through this week and next and then it is Spring Break. Good times.

All the Leaves Are Brown…And the Sky is Gray

Shlomo and I just returned from a long weekend in Los Angeles. He had a conference there and I tagged along. We also made it our celebration of Valentine's Day since he roped us into having dinner with two rabbis that night. Hey, I am not bitter. Two rabbis sound like ideal dining companions on what is supposed to be the most romantic day of the year. I am sure 2010 will be more romantic. (Shlomo, if you are reading this….it BETTER be!)

But I digress. Let's start with the best part of the trip: celebrity sightings. On Thursday, Shlomo was tied up with meetings. We all know what that means for Anshel…Rodeo Drive, baby! I arrived. I parked one block over on Beverly. I grabbed a quick lunch and was reading away on my kindle. I have a confession to make. When you read this, please keep in mind that I am very dedicated to my classes in both Shakespeare and Victorian Literature this semester. However, I was reading the memoirs of one Ms. Tori Spelling. I was also enjoying it.

So, I read. Then, I decided to cut over to Rodeo and down to Barneys New York (yet somehow in Los Angeles) on Wilshire. We all know how I feel about Barneys. It's the mothership calling me home. I cut through on the side street, ducked into the little paper shop that I always go in, and then made the corner at Cartier on Rodeo. Then, it happened. I came face to face and almost bumped into Tori herself. I think I said something like, "Oh, sorry." Huge grin.

It turns out, she and Jennie Garth (who I also saw) were filming a scene for the new 90210 on Rodeo. I will say this. They seemed nice and seemed like real friends. They are also very thin. They were in their TV makeup, but both looked very good.

So, Barneys was good. I got a great pair of vintage cufflinks that were 75% off. I found Shlomo a great pair for Valentine's Day that were not. I broke down and bought a little umbrella to shield myself from the rain. That's right…rain. Yeah, so much for sunny California. It was rainy and 60 degrees.

We also saw Luke McFarlane (from Brothers and Sisters) in a play. He also told us where to park. He also performed most of the play about 2 feet from us. It was a tiny theatre. It was general admission. Shlomo and I were first into the theatre and claimed front-row, center for ourselves.

There was a lot more, but I am sure you have lost interest at this point. I kind of have.

Procrastination and Breakfast

Okay, I am procrastinating reading MacBeth for the second time in two days. I will do it this afternoon, I promise. I also have to read the first fourth of A Sicilian Romance by Ann Radcliffe for my Victorian Lit class. For some reason, I don't think that will be as big of deal. It could also be because I won't be tested over that material. MacBeth quiz on Monday. Yikes.

On a brighter note, I had my favorite breakfast this morning: a brownie. Actually, it was a brownie and half a banana. The banana only happened because I was preparing breakfast for the parrots. They each had a fourth, so I ate the rest. They also had komquats, grapes, blueberries, and broccoli. I opted for the brownie. They definitely eat healthier than I do.

Actually, so does Lulu (the pug). Ever since we got Loco, she has developed a love of broccoli. Seriously. This morning, I was feeding her pieces of broccoli just like it was a snausage. How funny is that? Can't see see the commercial...a pug panting like crazy (as they often do) and then the voiceover booms through the commercial,"mmmmmmmmm...broccoli!" I don't know why I find this funny, but I do.

That's about all I have. I guess I am off to have a little romance in Sicily.

Double, Double, Toil and Trouble

So, classes started yesterday. It looks like it will be a pretty good semester. Did I mention I have to read MacBeth in its entirety by Monday? Yep, there's a quiz. I have a lot of reading to do. I have the book. I have the Spark Notes. I have the movie on its way from Netflix. I will do fine. But still, that's a lot of pressure this early in the semester. I think the professor is trying to scare people off so he has less to grade. It might be working.

So Oscar nominations were announced this morning. I don't know who I am pulling for in the Best Actress race...Meryl, Kate, or Anne. It's a tough call.

On a brighter note, we have a new President. And seriously, how cute were Sasha and Malia at the Inauguration?

WWBD?

I like to think of myself as someone with James Bond-like style. It does not just happen. I put thought into it. Today, for example, I am wearing British designers from head to ankle. (My shoes are Italian.) I have to say, it's a good outfit for my first day of class. I could easily look like I have zipped over in an Astin Martin...even though I will just drive over in a Jeep Cherokee.

Anyway, style prevails...until I made my first stop this morning. I had to go by the dentist to pick up my night guard. That's right...night guard. Now, I have to sleep with this plastic tray stuck to my upper teeth to keep me from grinding them. I don't think 007 would ever have to wear one of those. Then it hit me, this is way more Ugly Betty than James Bond. Why God? Why?

So now, as I get ready to go to my first class of the semester, I think I will abandon my oh-so-stylish messenger bag and instead ask myself "What would Betty Do?" I must find some big patchwork tote by 11:30. Then, I will carry that and wear my night guard. America Ferrera better watch her back. There is a new nerd in town.

A Realization

My name is Anshel and I am a big, gay cliche. Shlomo is out of town tonight on a little business trip. The business trips are not my favorite thing. I understand the need for them, but I do not love them (unless I am tagging along). This one is not to an even remotely glamorous locale.

Still, I might have been a bit mopey this evening. I hung out with the dogs and birds. I ate comfort food for dinner. I browsed my favorite online boutiques and galleries. Then, I polished the silver while watching The Devil Wears Friggin' Prada. Does it get any gayer than that? I don't think so.

Also, don't we like the way I changed the title of the movie ever-so-slightly? I really think it is better that way.

Back to School

Classes start on Monday. I have just a couple of days to do the chores I have put off for a month (oil change anyone?) and to watch the Inauguration. I have been watching the "Pre-Show" on HBO. This is all I have to say. Josh Groban has got to go. Seriously, he follows me around. I cannot stand him. Get a haircut. Get more than eight notes. I am considering starting a new blog devoted to this topic. If I do, it will be called grobansgottago.blogspot.com. I don't think I have that much time to devote to it, but it could be fun.

Happy Inauguration, Y'all.

Where's the Beef?

Here's the deal. For the past 13 or 14 years, I have not eaten red meat. Then, there was an instance last April. Shlomo and I were going to New York. Our flight was delayed due to weather. We were sitting in the President's Club waiting for the weather to clear. Suddenly, it did and our flight was boarding. It did not dawn on me that I had not had lunch. It did dawn on me when I was on the plane and realized that if I did not eat what was served, it would be 4:00 before I had anything to eat. The meal was a disgusting cheeseburger. Begrudgingly, I ate it.

However, I made a deal with myself and with Shlomo. If I ate that, I was going to have a good cheeseburger. I had loved cheeseburgers. It was a sacrifice when I gave them up. But, for health reasons (I am the son of someone who has had ten...yes TEN...heart attacks), I removed them from my diet. I was never a steak eater. I hate pot roast. Burgers were basically all I had to give up. During the trip, I had a good cheeseburger.

We returned to Houston. I went back on the wagon. Then, in Houston, we had Hurricane Ike. During the twelve days without power, the fleeing to San Antonio, the total misery that was Hurricane Ike, I ate a cheeseburger again. We were on the road and calling in an order at Shlomo's favorite dive. I was not familiar with the menu. It was what he recommended. Desperate times. Again, it was good. So, it began. I started sampling cheeseburgers on occasion. It was no big deal.

Now, Shlomo and I are joining a very popular diet program whose name I won't mention. I will just say that it rhymes with "Late Lotchers." Shlomo's favorite meal is beef tenderloin. I had vowed to never make it. Two days ago, I watched the Barefoot Contessa make one. I thought as a "last meal" so to speak, I would make him one...with his other favorites...panko-crusted mashed potatoes, salad with home-made thousand island dressing, and coconut meringue pie for dessert. Oh, I also made a bearnaise sauce for the tenderloin. It was a surprise. I had set the table with the good china, crystal, and silver. I know...I am soooooo sweet. Honestly, he probably does not deserve me. Actually, no one does. But, I like to share my gifts with the world. Wow. I am conceited tonight.

I will say this about the meal. That Barefoot Contessa knows what she is doing. Evidently so do I. It was real, real good, y'all. Evidently, I am a carnivore.

I can report one incident, though. I assumed that Shlomo would somehow manage to infuriate me after I surprised him with such a meal. Thankfully, that was not the case. Rather, we were enjoying dessert. There was a little drop of pie on the table. I wiped it with my finger (Emily Post would be so proud) and licked it. Yep, not pie. It was bearnaise sauce. Here's the deal, the bearnaise sauce was delicious on the tenderloin. But, when you are expecting to taste coconut pie filling, bearnaise is not so good.

Evidently, I made a funny face before proclaiming, "Ewwwwwwww!" Shlomo laughed hysterically. That's right. I worked my fingers to the bone cooking all day only to be laughed at. Oh well...

Waiting and Damaged

Well, 2009 is underway and I am happy to report that the fun and glamour never end. Victor is out of jail and Ashley is back in the picture. Wait. Not my life. That would be The Young and the Restless.

Seriously, I don't know if I can handle much more excitement. Today, I took Gilda to the vet for her first check-up. All was well. I have spent the rest of the day waiting on UPS. I know they will come after 5:00. Unless I leave the house. Then, they will come while I have gone. Shlomo covered UPS duty while we were at the vet.

One bright spot is that I am eating one of my homemade hot pockets. Making them is a cinch. Use crescent rolls (still in the rectangle) as the dough. Fill with a mixture of cream cheese and cooked sausage (I use turkey links that I chop). Wrap them in wax paper and store in the freezer. Then, heat at 375 for 20 minutes. Delish. They are also great for a party cut into bite-sized pieces and held together with a cocktail pick.

Yesterday, I set about organizing my bookshelves. I am still not finished. I also have an injured hip. Tomorrow...it is back to the Dewey Decimal System. Sadly, that is not a joke. By the way, don't you think cookbooks qualify as Applied Science?

Well, I guess I will return to the waiting game. Oh, totally watch Damages on FX tonight at 10:00/9:00 Central. It is the season premiere. Glenn Close will amaze you.

Well back to Guiding Light.