Making Adobo

I have tried to find my ink pens that I use to write my daily handwritten journal to no avail. I’m a snob. I’ll only write my journal with Pilot Precise .2 mm ink pens. It’s just a strange standard I’ve picked up. I’ve sometimes gone to Walgreens in my pyjamas to buy some pens to write in the morning. <lecter>But not today.</lecter> I have written a Journal entry on the blog so here goes.


Ron is asleep in the bedroom – I had to pull him back on the bed because he was sleeping with both feet on the floor and about to slide to the carpet. He was grinding his teeth just a little bit last night. It always sounds so painful but evidently it’s not. I usually reach over and massage his jaw muscles until he stops. He’s so cute when he’s asleep. Something so uncluttered and iconic about the architecture of the asian face. It’s not all gummed up with european noses and brows and structures. It’s like waking up with the Buddha.

We watched Return of the Jedi last night and then Empire Strikes Back. It is difficult to explain the chronology of the movies to someone that has only seen them in the 1, 2, 4, 5, 6 order. “This is number 5 which is the second one that was released.” The herd of Bantha on Tattooine is such a great transition and I think I could watch the speeder bikes sequence endlessly without getting bored.

I’m off today so we’ll probably go to the gym and maybe do kitty-shopping. We’ll see. Karen is in Friday through Monday so Brigitte and I really look forward to seeing her.

We made dinner last night. Ron made adobo which is chicken boiled in water and vinegar with peppercorns, soy sauce and bay leaves (we forgot the garlic). He used skin-on drumstricks so it was pretty fatty, yet good. We also broiled steaks and steamed asparagus to serve with the rice. All-in-all a $50 dinner for about $10 each.

Those GD silverfish are back. I think they come in through the windows. Ron saw one and started panicking. “Honey, kill it! Kill it!” And as I’m trying to find something to smash it with he’s beating me with a towel. I don’t know what beating on me has to do with speeding up the demise of said vermin. I bet the cats will take care of them. That or I imagine the kittens sitting in the corner behind the computers and nested in all the cords enjoying the elecrtric whirring warmth. I’m gonna pack foam around the windows when it gets cold and maybe re-caulk the panes – too much air getting through.

Had a great conversation at the coffeeshop on Monday night. This guy and I were discussing the intrinsic diffrences between plays, short stories and movies. I was telling him how I had enjoyed The Da Vinci Code because of it’s craft and technique – that it was pulpy and alarmist but still satisfying. Evidently that was beneath him. As we were discussing plays and theatre the whole topic turned to where I grew up and I hate hate hate when someone pulls that I’m from New York so I am so much more goddamn cultured than you bullshit. “Well, I’m a New York son, born-raised.” Which he did. Maybe I’m too sensitive. I get tired of the ‘flyover-state’ mentality. It’s so contrived and narrow-minded and dismissive.

Wigga, please.

The topic was when the plays I produced bombed and I attributed that to my lack of skill and resources in marketing. I was talking about how in marketing for theatre it seems you have to focus on selling the emotional experience – that we as media/story-creators are selling a guaranteed emotional experience. It’s like how a theme park sells different physical experiences. “You’ll laugh, you’ll cry.” Yep, I bet it really has to be that base – given our media-training for movie marketing. And that would explain why I can’t stand trailers for foreign films where it looks like nothing happens in the whole trailer. Just assorted images that add up to nothing and some laughter or grunt that they knew they wouldn’t have to translate into English.

I got a myofascial massage last week (aka Rolfing). God, that stuff rocks. You strip to your undies and Patrick looks over your posture and says, “Yep… uh-huh… yep. Right there, right?” And he puts his fingers on your iliotibial band and presses and you think you’re going to die because it’s so tight. And the knee work is deadly. My quads were really really tight and he basically just parked his elbow on them until they released, jiggling like a goldfish caught under my skin. Probably go for three more sessions. My right hip is turned out from tension in my right psoas that also pulls my right shoulder down. So yeah the whole right side of my body is skewed. If you ever have the time/money to do the full ten-session myofascial/structual therapy/Rolfing sequence, I highly recommend it. You’ve never paid so much money to have so much pain and then feel so good.

I’ve enjoyed not buying a bunch of furntiure for the apartment. I like having things spare. It’s very ascetic. I do need to figure out what to get for when I want to have a pancake party. That might require a trip to Ikea.

4 thoughts on “Making Adobo

  1. andrew

    I always ues a Pilot ink pen .7mm – it’s got to the point where I can’t (hand) write properly with anything else.

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