Entry #38

Entry #38

Monday, January 30

9:00 a.m. Aidan’s home sick with some sort of bronchial virus. Bummer. It’s the start of a “new unit” at school, which means he’ll be missing a whole lot more than basically any other day this month. Ergh. “Karma can be a jerk,” said Noah, regarding this unfortunate timing.

The other day Noah said, “People tend to stretch the fish,” while talking about folks expanding the truth. He’s come up with some good ones lately.

4:00 p.m. After getting bullied by the dog park pups, I took Izzie for a special “play day” at the Texas Dog House. For $15, she can romp with friendly, well-socialized dogs all day, under the watch of the friendly owners, Heather and David.

Upon picking Izzie up, she was so excited to see us, she didn’t wait for the gate to open, but rather leapt up onto the desk, over the counter, and was about to jump about four feet down until Heather grabbed her and led her through the open gate. My dog can fly! I think agility training might be in order.

Thursday, February 2

11:00 a.m. Noah was peeved at a local review of The Hunger Games, a book he really enjoyed. The journalist began his review with the word “Meh.” When I first started seeing this word in print, I thought it was was descriptive and funny, but it’s become so overused, it seems to have turned on itself; the word “meh” has become just meh.

The food critic in this paper talked about how much she enjoyed her trip to Sonoma County, CA, which was interesting, considering the fact that it’s a Houston-based paper. Apparently she stayed at The Occidental Inn and really enjoyed their “orange cream French toast.” She then transitioned to a local restaurant in the River Oaks area of Houston, raving about their French toast as well. Seems tasty French toast (which isn’t really French at all) unites the Lone Star and Sunshine states. A toast to toast—delicious no matter where you roam!

Steak, however, is another story. Beef is as integral to Texas’ identity as cowboy boots and Stetson hats. As the Texas Beef Council’s homepage (entitled, “The Beef Story”) explains, “Raising cattle isn’t just a business, it is a way of life and a livelihood for the more than 135,000 beef ranchers in Texas.”

We heard this message loud and clear on a local commercial yesterday evening. It began with a tough-looking cowboy staring into the camera and drawling, “In Texas, we don’t take too kindly to anyone messing with our steaks.” Turned out to be an ad for the HEB grocery chain. Seems cowboys aren’t beyond getting their steaks packaged in cellophane. I thought if they were real cowboys, they’d just slice ‘em off the cow (the fresher, the better).

9:00 p.m. I opened the door to let Izzie out back and saw a cute little lizard scurry up the wall. While looking up, I also noticed an odd shape in the doorway. Turns out another lizard must’ve got caught in the upper corner some weeks ago (or more). It was completely in tact, but flat and dehydrated. It was an odd sensation to peel away a critter from the door frame. (Of course, after taking a closer look, I freaked myself out and flung the poor thing in the bushes. Not the most dignified burial.)

Friday, February 3

9:30 a.m. After taking Izzie for a walk along the waterway this morning, I stopped into Hubbell & Hudson for a few quick groceries. Waiting at the café was a woman in a long, neon blue wig, red platform pumps, and a white vintage floral dress. Needless to say, she didn’t look like anyone I’ve ever seen in Texas.

While waiting to get a latté, she stood next to me, soaring well over 6’ tall. I told her she looked “striking.” She said that she was doing a cooking blog and was videotaping it there and was surprised that more people weren’t staring at her.

She confessed she was wearing a “Katy Perry” wig. It actually looked really good on her, with her blue eyes and all. I really enjoyed watching people attempting to look like they weren’t looking.

 Saturday, February 4

11:00 a.m. Noah got a text from a friend back in San Francisco, telling him that he saw pick-up truck with the following bumper sticker: “Vegetarian is an old indian word meaning ‘bad hunter.’” He liked this so much, he had me order a t-shirt with this saying. It'll be interesting to see how people respond to it around here.

6:00 p.m. We just enjoyed a dinner that definitely required more gathering than hunting. The Lucky Café has become a new favorite restaurant, especially for Noah, since tofu dishes abound, as well as fried rice noodles, with plenty o’ veggies, including those tiny corn-on-the-cobs. Plus, it’s really cheap—about $6.45/entrée. No décor to speak of, but the grub is decent, especially if you like consuming foods that are foraged (then pressed into blocks, cut into cubes, fried, and smothered in various Vietnamese sauces).

I wonder about those mini-corns. Have you ever seen them in the fresh produce section? I sure haven't. How are they grown? In teeny corn fields? I've never really thought about this Lilliputian vegetable, but now I'm curious.

Sunday, February 5

8:00 p.m. Can you tell I’m not watching the Super Bowl? I did watch the half-time show though. Aidan couldn’t believe Madonna was 50 (she’s actually 53). “She looks like she’s 35 and acts like she’s 20,” remarked Aidan, after seeing her performance.

How many 50-year-olds, after all, wear fishnet stockings, can dance and sing without getting winded, and can do a backbend (not to mention, have absolutely no wrinkles or sagging skin)? Seems she defies both age and gravity. I want somma dat.

Yesterday, while watching Fried Green Tomatoes, Aidan commented that “in the old days, people had real problems. These days, people just worry about their looks and weight.” Interesting commentary. Then again, Kathy Bates, the “modern-day” character in the film, was indeed focusing on her thankless marriage and emotional eating, while Jessica Tandy’s character lost a brother, fought for women’s rights and desegretation, and rescued her friend from an abusive spouse. In this regard, Aidan does have a point.

While Noah and Aidan were at their Sunday afternoon art class, David and I returned to the Houston MFA. The place spans across three buildings, so we have a lot of ground to cover. It’s actually a good thing we only have an hour-and-a-half each visit, because it means we can take in a section of the museum each time without getting overwhelmed.

Today we browsed the ground floor, walking through an exhibit that featured Czech glass, as well as some really bizarre artists whose artwork was intended to freak out the observer. I was glad there was some beautiful art glass there to get my mind off the severed heads, creepy skeletons,  and swollen genitalia.

We climbed about 100 stairs to reach the Impressionist section, which was truly impressive, and good exercise, too! I always love looking as close as I possibly can to art pieces (without getting in trouble by the hawkish security guards), imagining the artist painting that piece, deciding on the texture, the colors, and the moment in which they declare their piece fini.

After observing the meticulous realism of the Dutch Masters, I could really appreciate how radical artists like Picasso were, how some of his later pieces might’ve not even been considered “real art” at the time, with messy, unfinished lines, unevenly textured paint and empty spaces. How times have changed...