Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Goulet Wednesday News Roundup

-Geez Louise lady! I haven't seen this much muff since I was at a women's college. How many times now, five? Good lord.

-Old news, I know, but if my thing with FedEx doesn't work out, there's always Kid Rock, I mean Bob. In a related story, Borat is one step closer to moving from "hand party" to "sexytime" with Pam.

-One down, I don't know how many more to go, but hopefully all of them.

-Wes and Coral from the Real World are speaking at Smith tomorrow night. I'm half tempted to go. I can't clearly remember Wes and know that I'm still scared of Coral. Remember when the Real World wasn't populated by drunken-anorexic-sorority-turbo-sluts and manwhores? Yeah, me too. Remember that first season? I'm still half in love with Julie and Eric Nies is still hot (remember The Grind? If you haven't seen me already, it's where I learned to dance, back in 1993). Shit sucks now, man. Still, I smell a Netflix fueled marathon!

-First NBC, now Colin Powell? They're catching on...

-And I thought my name was trouble... Check out this winner.

-"I'm Brian Fellows!" With a DUI.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

So, I was listening

to "Yellow" by Coldplay (I know, so 2000) and realized that they're simply a poor man's Travis ("Why Does It Always Rain On Me?"). In any case, they both sound like early Radiohead.

That is all.

Monday, November 27, 2006


Hibernation: I haven't checked my email since Friday night! Sadly, I only had 36 messages. I was hoping that an onslaught of emails imploring my immediate return to the blogosphere would await me, but it was mostly my mom. Thanks guys.

Reviews: I saw two movies this weekend while on brief breaks from my self imposed hibernation; Casino Royale and For Your Consideration. Casino Royale, albeit a mite campy, delivered in all the ways a Bond movie should. I'm considering switching teams as Eva Green is pretty much the hottest lady I've ever seen and made me feel something funny in my naughty bits. However, For Your Consideration was somewhat of a disappointment. I think it was the pace of the narrative or something. Something was just off. Sure, there were moments of hilarity, including a dead-on depiction of entertainment daily tv shows, but other than that, kinda flat. Save your $8 and rent Waiting for Guffman.

Declaration: This is the winter of heels. I will wear them out rain, snow, sleet, ice, etc. Fortunately, global warming is preventing me from putting this declaration to the test. 62? Late November? Awesome! I loathe socks, coats and closed toed shoes.

Request: Andrew Bird (!) is playing at Middlebury on December 1. Who's coming with me? Seriously. I really really wanna go and need a partner. It's not too bad of a drive (I'm a good driver, I promise), the tickets are only $8 and he's freaking fantastic! Take a listen. He doesn't come round these parts very often. It's in your best interest. I'm just looking out for you.

Apologies: I have not had time to review TMZ, Gawker, Perez, Molly or Pink yet today. I will bring you any breaking news as soon as I can. Sit tight. I can guess for you, though: Lindsay has shown her crotch somewhere, Britney and Paris lost their pants, blah blah blah.

Congratulations: The Sooners triumphed over the lame-ass Cowboys with a 27-21 victory! Boomer! Sooner! Not gonna help us much, though. Stupid USC and the other OSU.

Cats: I still don't understand them. There were two creeping around the apartment over the holiday (cat sitting for the neighbor). I thought they would play together like dogs, or at least fall asleep in a cute little pile like an inspirational poster, but no. One hid under the bed and the other escaped. Roommate found Party Cat under the porch, fortunately. Good thing cats don't have distinct personalities, that way we could've replaced her real easy.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Thanksgiving Part I:

Because I'm a tard and left my camera at Margreat's house, pictures of the Turkey Day festivities will have to wait. What I can tell you now, though, is that I am going to eat the fuck out of some leftover mashed potatoes, stuffing and greenbean casserole a mere 6 hours after the initial round of consumption. It's going to be fucking awesome. Then I'm going to unbutton my pants and watch Grey's Anatomy. I strongly suggest you do the same.

Also, I am now obessessed with "Hello Operator" by the White Stripes. Can't get enough. Listen to it so we can sing along together next time we're drunk. Which will hopefully be soon.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

It's 5pm on a Wednesday afternoon and I am still reading the Sunday Times.

I weighed it on Sunday. Two pounds according to my scale (which, in all honesty, I hope is a little off most of the time, but I suspect is accurate in this case). This behemoth costs $5. $5! That's a value meal at McDonald's, about 6 tacos at Taco Bell, or three nips of Jim Beam. Seriously, that's a lot of cash for a pile of newsprint, most of which I'm not interested in. So, I'm making an offer.

Here are all sections of the paper (Blah blah blah business and real estate. Who cares? I have no money and am therefore disinterested.):

Here's what I read (I am willing to share the sports section. Since OU is sucking, I'm not too attached to it at the moment.):

Perhaps we can timeshare? Let me know.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

b "fucking hates douchebags like this"

Gawker's all over this, but in case you don't read it religiously like me, I thought I would bring this to your attention. Warning: you might vomit while watching.

Monday, November 20, 2006

I'm just a small town girl...

living in a lonely world really REALLY small (and awesome) town, which has its benefits. I can walk everywhere important: bars, liquor store, mom and pop grocery and the pharmacy. Ok, there are also fabulous restaurants and darling boutiques. I'm quite spoiled living here. There are even street performers, protesters and hipsters on every corner! Who needs New York when you have Northampton, jewel of Western Mass? However, there is a downside to the small town.

Say you suffer a (what you initially consider a rather traumatic) breakup. Say post breakup, you embark on, well, a bit of a (moderate) booty binge. Say you do this in a town of 30,000. One is bound to run into ghosts of drunken nights past. Like today. I'm sitting in a coffee shop and I'm fairly certain I saw a potentially familiar face up at the counter. I pretended like I was in a coma - very believable (especially to those of you acquainted with my tremendous acting abilities). I'm pretty inexperienced at this whole thing and have no idea how a normal adult (heh - adult) conducts oneself in this situation. I'm fine with mutual complete feigned ignorance, but it seems like in such a small town, that's going to eventually become kind of ridiculous. On the other hand, it's not like I'm going to walk up and say, hey, remember that night that time? Yeah, hazy for me too. Nice to see you.

So yeah, I don't know how to act. Any advice out there?


Hello there. I've been listening to the following songs pretty much non-stop and thought I would share them with all (3) of you. They are a little sad bastard, but, that's how I'm feeling at the moment, so there. In any case, perhaps you will enjoy them as much as I do. I'm not savvy enough for figure out how to link you directly to them, so take a listen on their MySpace sites. Sorry for the ghettoness.

Fidelity - Regina Spektor: I know she's been on the scene for a while, but I'm slow. I'm just glad someone else hears voices...

Sundress - Ben Kweller: I like all of the Bens I can get my hears on (Folds, Lee, Harper, Gibbard) and he's no exception.

O Valencia - The Decemberists: The most upbeat song about death ever!

Tulips - Fancy Trash: This one just gets stuck in my head ALL the time.

Satellite - Guster: I've always claimed to hate Guster along with Dispatch and other frat friendly bands (reminds me of punch and pong, blech), but I actually like this one.

Again and Again - The Bird and the Bee: Weird, but catchy.

Golden Days - The Damnwells: Poppy, but infectious.

Together - The Raconteurs: This is probably my favorite at the moment, but of course, I can't find it. Steady as She Goes is good stuff too.

bad video of Together:

Back Together - Citizen Cope: He's the guy from that Pontiac commercial I was obsessed with a year ago (Son's Gonna Rise), but I like this one too. He was just in Noho last week and I missed him. So pissed!

Sunday, November 19, 2006

I'm pretty sure I still have bird flu

but, guess what you get to have when you're afflicted? A hot toddy! Delicious and better than a robotrip anyday. I sucked it up and watched the Big Game with a couple of kids from Ohio and a disinterested Michigan fan among others. It was actually a pretty good time in spite of me hating that both teams are better than the Sooners. I was also just ecstatic because I could actually breathe out of my nose. And, of course, the victory beer didn't hurt either. I would like to point out that OU went on to a 36-10 win over Baylor since so many (by so many, I mean all three of you that read this thing) of you care.

And now, back to bed, I think. Not because I'm sick so much as the hipster/emo (there's also the uniquely Northampton "smithster" in abundance this evening - so young!) kids here at Haymarket are way too cool for school and are giving me the evil, but tolerant, eye. I feel I should either put a skirt over my not skinny enough jeans, break out my tortoise shell glasses (ok, yes I have some in spite of my self proclaimed "fighter pilot vision"), pull up my leg warmers, listen to Devendra Banhart while rocking a pair of leggings and Uggs, drink a soy chai latte out of an ogranic coconut shell that I will compost shortly after consumption or head home.

Friday, November 17, 2006

I think I have bird flu.

Feel free to feel sorry for me. I think I'm going to chug a bottle of Robitussin now and it's not even Friday night yet!

But, before I crawl off to bed, check this out. I'm 98.4% sure my brother was lined up outside of an Oklahoma Best Buy last night. I love that kid.

Oh, and one more thing. I've been reading a lot about this supposedly big game happening tomorrow. OSU vs. Michigan. I think everyone must be confused. The OU/OSU game is happening on the 25th. That is real bedlam.

Ok. Last thing. I ate this last night (thanks Siobhlogger!), but it's ok because the New York Times says it is.

The Kings of the Cocktail Hour Once Again
Published: August 30, 2006
PIGS in blankets? “They’re back with a vengeance!” said Sean Driscoll, an owner of the silver-tray catering company Glorious Food in Manhattan. Though they never disappeared from the bar mitzvah circuit (where they are often called franks in jackets, the way Katz’s Delicatessen, being kosher, labels them), they had been disparaged as a cliché for too many years. The classiest caterers kept their distance.

But now you can forget caviar and sushi. Without pigs in blankets, it seems, no black tie cocktail hour is complete. They are more than acceptable; they are again being seen for what they are: perfect finger food, delicious and surrounded by the same aura of affection enjoyed by all comfort foods.

Mr. Driscoll’s company served them in June for a formal garden party at the Museum of Modern Art and for 4,000 people at the Robin Hood Foundation benefit. Waiters passed them in July at a party for the Parrish Art Museum in Southampton, N.Y.

“They’re acceptable guilt food,” he said. “They’re not like buying a hot dog from a street vendor, and besides, the pastry is a good blotter for alcohol.”

Helene Cisek, the catering director for Eli’s Vinegar Factory, said that pigs in blankets are always the first things to be “gobbled up” and that for catered parties they always plan to have extras on hand.

Sometimes the blanket itself is more like a fine quilt. The franks might be tucked into flaky puff pastry by establishments like Daniel Boulud’s Restaurant Daniel, and his catering company, Feast & Fêtes. At Daniel, guests can pluck pigs in blankets from an elaborate puff pastry dome that is fitted with holes to hold the tidbits.

Marcy Blum, a wedding and party planner, said they had become essential at parties again, like at the black tie wedding last week at Cipriani Wall Street.

And Serena Bass, the English caterer, said: “We might be talking about hors d’oeuvres made of quail and moulard duck breast something or other, and the client will clutch her neck and ask, almost sotto voce, whether they could possibly have pigs in blankets. It’s almost embarrassing because it’s all anybody wants. We literally serve them all the time.”

Ms. Bass makes hers with kosher cocktail franks, dusts the puff pastry with poppy seeds and varies the standard pot of Gulden’s mustard with dips like quince paste and homemade barbecue sauce. They were on the menu for a house party she catered for Microsoft last week in the Hamptons.

A few weeks ago they were even served at a reception after a memorial service for a member of the board at Lincoln Center. “The family requested them because the deceased loved them,” said José Fong, the director of catering for Restaurant Associates, which handled the event.

Because some still see them as trite, variations can make the difference. Nisa Lee, a caterer in Pelham, N.Y., who specializes in Thai, Moroccan and other international cuisines, said she liked to put a modern spin on them by using duck sausage, chorizo and andouille and by wrapping them in phyllo or wonton skins. “They’re a big hit, no matter what,” she said.

The concept of pigs in blankets, that is, sausage meat in pastry, is familiar, in one form or another, in many cuisines. Saucisson en croûte in France, toad in the hole in England and even pot stickers in China and empanadas in Argentina are examples. They are close cousins to American pretzel dogs and corn dogs. Some say the American version originated in the South, where they are usually wrapped in biscuit dough.

One more sign of their popularity is that Dufour Pastry Kitchens, which has been in business for 21 years making and selling frozen hors d’oeuvres in all-butter puff pastry, will add pigs in blankets to the line. The company never used meat products before.

“Our customers have been pleading for them,” said Judi Arnold, a partner in the company. “We experimented with a salmon dog in puff pastry but it didn’t take off. We finally found an all-natural beef frank that we’re happy with, so we’re ready to do them.” (They will be introduced at the end of September and sold at Zabar’s, among other stores; information about ordering them will be at

And you can be sure, as this fall’s party season gets under way, that pigs in blankets will be on all the right trays and platters. “They used to be like a joke,” said Ms. Blum, the party planner. “But everyone takes them seriously now.”

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

I am in love

with my bed. It's pretty much the best bed ever. It's good sized, there's some sort of pillow top action, a simple, but tasteful headboard. I'm not gonna lie, I spend a lot of time in it - mostly reading Harry Potter or passed out. I'm not sure why I require so many pillows, but I must have all six of them. I love you, bed.

blah blah blah knitting

So, I belong to an informal knitting group. We try to meet up once a week to do some eating, some gossipping and eventually, some knitting. Well, the others do.

Look at Alabracadabra hard at work!

Pregnantigoni knitting while wearing her own handiwork. Quite amazing.

Look at me pretending to knit. Yes, I devoured that bread bowl AND the bag of chips. That's how I roll.

What I end up doing is examining the contents of my purse when I realize that I cannot actually knit worth a damn.

1. cell phone - essentially useless, no one calls me and i use it exclusively for drunk dialing
2. lip gloss - you know, in case anyone's ever looking
3. moisturizer - it's winter!
4. wallet - chock full of receipts
5. sunglasses
6. keys - to my sweetass ride and posh apartment
7. post-it - probably something important that i've already forgotten
8. USB cord. you know.

Holy Crap!

Saw these guys last night. Peelander Z is really quite something. At one point, Margrawesome was on stage hitting people over the head with a giant mallet. Pretty sweet. Or something.

Monday, November 13, 2006

A few things:

So, after my adventure Friday afternoon, pretty much anything was going to be anticlimatic, but I will regale you with my weekend anyway.
Friday night: Acorn to Tree and Kelsey Frost made dinner for Siobhlogger and I. Very nice. Then we headed out to have a drink with Big T. Also very nice. Then, Acorn to Tree and I headed to the seediest, smelliest bar in town to hear some music, which for once ended up not being too bad. These kids were awesome. My new musical heroes, if you're into nerdy white boy rapping - or something. I actually enjoyed myself for once, but there was no dancing as my legs are pretty much useless as a result of my return to Bikram Yoga. The events following are unspeakable, but I will provide highlights: a lost coat (again!), the radio, a Chinese dictionary, 5am.
Saturday: After waking at noon (only four hours of daylight left, blah), Siobhlogger took me for a nice jaunt in the woods, then we went suburban and bought dog food, stuff like that, you know. JS called and invited me to dinner with himself and Alabracadabra. He graciously picked me up (you know, since I can't drive) and we had a lovely dinner of gourmet roast beef sandwiches and homemade mac and cheese. I have not eaten at home since Monday night. I'm not sure if I should be proud of this or not. Then we headed into town for a lovely drink at a lovely bar and I think I forgot to say thanks. Thanks JS. I was a good girl and went home at 1.
Sunday: Now, this is where things get weird. I'm pretty much broke, can't drive, am boyfriendless, all the friends are busy doing productive things, so this means I must entertain myself. I watched some Meet the Press and yelled at the TV, made a weird soup, cleaned my room, and took a two hour bath. I'm very clean now. I went to The Neighbor's house to check my email and we ended up going to dinner, which continues my no food at home streak, which I've decided, I'm publically ashamed of, but secretly proud. We watched some Mr. Show, which is never a bad idea on a rainy Sunday. Back at home, I did the following to stave off absolute boredom: made myself a gin and tonic, organized my photos, did some dishes, tried to teach myself Maybe I'm Amazed on the guitar, sang an entire Ella Fitzgerald album as if I were giving a concert, finished a biography on Queen Elizabeth (I) and started The Master and Margarita. Finally, Roommate came home and we watched some Sex and the City. Is this normal? Is this what I'm supposed to be doing? I'm skeptical.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Post election wrap-up or why I wore handcuffs on a Friday afternoon (but not in a good way).

So, today is my last day off before starting Job 2.0 and I decided to use it responsibly (although I really just wanted to read more Harry Potter in bed) by taking care of some domestic chores including, you know, laundry, cleaning the bathroom, painting my toenails, etc. I'm clad in my usual laundry day desperation attire: sports bra from 1999, bikini bottoms, GAP kids fleece pullover, purple cordoroy pants - yes purple, unkempt hair, unmade-up face (ok, that's pretty normal). I'm coming home from the laundrymat when I see my favorite thing in the whole world: flashing lights in my rearview mirror. I pull over (I'm only about 20 feet from my apartment). The cop comes up, blah blah blah, how fast, blah blah blah, license and registration, please. I oblige, of course. I sit in the car thinking things like, what am I going to have for my afternoon snack and what about dinner - maybe pesto?, you know, because I only think about food. It dons on me that he's taking a while. Hmm, I think. Perhaps a nice caprese salad with the pesto. He sidles back up to the car with no ticket. Hmm, I think again. White wine?

"Um, ma'am?" he says. I am appalled. Ma'am? "Did you know you're driving with a suspended license?"

"No," I say. "Why would I be driving if I knew my license were suspended?"

"Well, you're going to have to go down to the station with me."

WHAT? STATION? He proceeds to tell me that a ticket that I (and by I I mean the exboyfriend, fine it was my car that was uninspected, but he coulda told me) almost a YEAR ago and was paid in JULY had mysteriously resulted in my license being suspended as of September. None of this makes any sense to me and I try to rationally protest, but I see I am not going to win. He then tells me he needs to cuff me. Cuff me? No, I think not. My eyes well up and he senses that he's not going to win and says, "Ok, but it's against policy." Yeah, it's against my policy to get fucking arrested for having paid a traffic citation. Holy balls am I pissed. So, he takes me down to the station (about 100 feet fro my apartment, hopefully all the neighbors saw my shame) and then says he does in fact have to cuff me when he takes me in because other officers are present. I say ok, but what I really want to say is, there's a camera in my purse, can you take a picture of this? I resist. While nice, the cop doesn't have the sense of humor I was hoping he'd have.

So, I go inside and am booked. BOOKED! I have to say my weight out loud. I have to take a picture in laundry day desperation attire! Fortunately, I can have a court appearance today, whatever that means. So, I scoot across the street to the courthouse and a nice lady tells me I can see the judge and meet with the DA to go over my charges. Charges? So far I only know of one infraction: dating a one [redacted]. While I wait, the two officers search my purse, find my old school ID and proceed to make fun of me. "For a girl that went to a good school, this is kinda a dumb thing to do, etc." Yeah, real funny and original. Whatev. I laugh in hopes that they will take pity on me and make this thing go away faster. Which they do.

I'm led into a courtroom and am surprised by the informality. People are kinda just milling around. I suppose it's a Friday afternoon and all, but I was expecting some Law & Order action.

The judge mentions that I can clear all of this up today, but the DA jumps up and says, no way, it's a holiday, will have to wait. I almost piss myself thinking that I'm going to be in jail this weekend (then I think, would that be so bad? I mean, I'd have plans for the entire weekend! Pressure's off!), but then he says, you can go, we just need to reschedule. He comes out from behind his sad little desk and sits on the bench with me to tell me that I just need to go get a new license and bring it back, then the whole matter will be dismissed. He doesn't know why it even happened, but I shouldn't have an Oklahoma license anyway (which I concede) now that I permanently live in Mass. (OK. YES. I know this and have known this. You wanna know why I still have it? Brad Henry (D - OK). That's fucking why. I wanted to vote for the Dems in this past election in Oklahoma as opposed to MA where they were sure to win. This is what I get for being a concerned, politically active citizen. Well, fuck you Oklahoma, my absentee ballot didn't even show up in time (ok, I think mail forwarding might have something to do with it, but still, fuck you Oklahoma Elections Board).

But I'm not listening all that well, because I have fallen in love with the DA. However, unless he's into criminals wearing the worst outfit ever, I think it's hopeless.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

i am feeling uncreative and strapped for time because i have to catch up with gawker and tmz

holy crap! did you see lost last night? sawyer + kate + cage = creamed my pants.

and that ben/henry gale is one badass mutha.

but other than that, nothing much happened, as usual. however, since lost is crack and i have an addictive personality, i don't see ending our terrible, codependent relationship anytime soon, although i do have a break until 2/7. so, i have wednesday nights free for drinking again. call me! seriously, call me.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

New boyfriend search over!

Britney (fucking finally) filing for divorce on election day? I sense conspiracy.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Things I learned this weekend:

1) Alabracadabra is a lovely hostess and wonderful cook. She made a beautiful Sunday pot roast for Chris, Matt and I. Thanks!

Mmm. Beef. And vegetables, I suppose. I know I should like vegetables. And I guess I do, when they're covered in meat juice. Mmm.

Matt "cocaine is the most fun you'll have this year" and Alabra, gracious hostess.

Chris "my double chin drops like testicles after dessert."

Not pictured: me stuffing my face with meat, root veggies and bread.

2) Siobhlogger is one crafty bitch! While I wallowed about on her couch nursing yet another vicious hangover while pretending to knit wrist warmers Saturday afternoon, she went to town making these placemats. Good job!

3) You really do only get ass when you haven't shaved your legs since sometime before Labor Day.

4) Don't take pictures when you're drunk. Check out these little gems I found on my camera from Thursday night.

Friday, November 03, 2006



= lost
where are you lovely terra cotta kenneth cole coat?

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Someone loves me (finally)!

I celebrated official Halloween by heading out to a reading/interview sponsored by my lovely local radio station with the Pioneer Valley's own Augusten Borroughs. Yes, I am one of those who voraciously blew through all of his books (well, except for Possible Side Effects because it's still in hardback and I am a cheap bastard) and fell in love with the idea that someone's family is more dysfunctional than my own and has drunk more than me, times 10. Siobhlogger and I settled into our seats and listened as Augusten told us of the movie making process, meeting Annette Benning and his love of Blenheim Ginger Ale, which he provided to the audience. Next, it was on to the Q & A section, where Siobhlogger's question was asked to the delight of the author and received the most laughs from the audience. I was jealous, I won't lie, but that's why she's getting the Ph.D. and I'm stuck in a windowless office. So, it's time for the signing of books portion of the evening and I'm literally too nervous to deal with it. It reminds me of when I met Kurt Vonnegut on the street and completely flubbed a hello or when I had Richard Wilbur sign a volume of poetry for my dad and almost passed out. In spite of my obsession with nerdy celebrities, I can't seem to handle meeting them (which throws a wrench into my plan of marrying Ira Glass). I desperately want S to pretend she's me (I'm whining/pleading, in fact), but she refuses (um, why would anyone not want to be me? what?). Finally, it's my turn and he asks me how I am, I say fine (do I ask him how he is? no...), he asks me my name, I say Blythe, he says B-L-Y-T-H-E? I say yes! Well done and on the first try! And he says, well, it's Gwenyth's mother's name. And I say, and Apple's middle name! By say I mean excitedly scream and perhaps spit a little bit into his face. So there's that. Oh, also, he writes "with love" in my book. Did he write "with love" to the woman ahead of me. NO. That's right. Someone loves me. But not like that.

I was almost ready to pee my pants already, so getting any closer than this or asking for a photo op was not an option.

Also, here are pictures of the cat for those of you who do not believe I could cohabitate with a cat. Her name is Party Cat. She belongs to Roommate and likes to sleep on me (much like she is on top of me in these photos) when I try to read books in bed. She also likes to bite my arms.