Nouveau Comfort Food for Depressing Times

I am depressed. I just found out that an old friend died last week. I'm seriously depressed. And I also noticed it's been a month and a half since I last blogged! Wow. So, here's a new blog for your mid-winter blues. Eat your heart out on some nouveau comfort food.

Beef Tenderloin Steaks with Mashed Potatoes and Swiss Chard (The steaks and chard recipes are adapted from Jan. '09 Better Homes and Gardens).
4 6oz beef tenderloin steaks
1 tbsp butter
1 tsp olive oil
4 shallots, halved
3/4 cup beef broth
1 tbsp butter, softened
Snipped flat leaf Italian parsley
Peppercorns (optional)

Sprinkle steaks with salt and pepper. In a large cast iron skillet, heat 1 tbsp butter and the oil over high heat. Brown steak bottoms (1-2). Turn and cook 6 min or more until desired doneness. Remove steaks and keep warm.
Add shallots to skillet. Cook about 5 min, then add beef broth. Scrape skillet to remove browned yummy bits. Whip in that last tbsp of softened butter. Then put the steaks in and dollop the liquid over the top. Throw some snipped Italian parsley on there, and a few peppercorns, if you like. Voila! Bon appetit.

Momma's Mashed Potatoes
While the steaks are cooking, throw about 3 pounds of peeled Yukon gold potatoes (yes, it makes a difference in the taste!), cut into 1" cubes, in a big pot of boiling water. When the potatoes are almost soft, take a stick of butter and 3/4 cup whole milk, and saute over low heat, taking care not to scorch. When the potatoes are fork tender (10-15 mins), drain them in a colander and then put them in a mixing bowl. Use electric beater to smoosh them up, and add generous dashes of salt and pepper. Also dash in some heavy whipping cream until your potatoes are the desired consistency. Delish-eee-ous, I gawrawntee.

While all this is going on, boil up another big ol' pot of water. Take some nice Swiss chard (don't be afraid!) and chop the red stems off. Throw them in the water as soon as it's boiling and let them boil about 4-5 min. Then throw in the leaves and let it all boil about 2 more mins. When chard is tender, strain it in a colander, and drizzle a bit of good olive oil over it, dash with salt and pepper, and also drizzle some yummy vinegar on top. So good that you won't believe you never (or rarely) eat chard!

And what about dessert? What comfort dinner is without dessert? Well, let me introduce you to some cookies I'm really proud of. These are all my own invention.

Heather's Chocolate Caramel Monsters (aka amazingly good everything-but-the kitchen sink cookies)
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
2/3 cup baking cocoa
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup sugar
2/3 cup packed dark brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 large eggs
1-12 oz package white chocolate chips
1-12 oz package small round caramel bits
1 1/2 (ish) cups chopped pecans

Preheat oven to 350. Combine flour, cocoa, baking soda, and salt in a bowl. Beat butter, sugar, brown sugar, and vanilla extract in very large bowl, until creamy. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each egg. Gradually beat in flour mixture. Stir in chips, bits, and nuts. Drop by large rounded tsp on cookie sheets covered in parchment paper.
Bake for about 10 minutes, until set. Cool on sheets for 2-4 min, then move to wire racks. Enjoy, and don't forget to brush your teeth after these. (Your dentist would not be pleased with me if I didn't say that.)

Cook, eat, feel better, repeat as desired.

Ch-ch-ch-cherry Cobbler

This is a mixture of two cobbler recipes, "cobbled" together. Hee. The crust is superb... try it with different fruits. I bet it's amazing with blueberries.

Ingredients:
2 cans Oregon tart pie cherries
1 tbsp cornstarch
1 cup sugar, or to taste
1/4 tsp almond extract
1 1/2 tbsp baking powder
1 1/3 cups flour
1/2 tsp salt
8 tbsps (1 stick) cold unsalted butter, cut in small bits
1 egg
1/2 tsp vanilla extract

For cherries: drain one can of juice, and put the all the cherries with one can still having juice over low heat. Using a small bit of cold water, dissolve a tbsp of cornstarch separately. Once fully dissolved, add to cherries, stirring gently but constantly with a wooden spoon. Add 1/4 tsp almond extract and 1/2 cup sugar and stir until thick.

Preheat oven to 375.

Grease a 8"x8"x3" glass or earthenware casserole with butter; put cherries at the bottom and set aside.

For dough: whisk dry ingredients including the remaining 1/2 cup of the sugar. Add the 8 tbsp of butter in small bits. Cut the butter in until it's party mixed. Get out your electric mixer and mix in the eggs and vanilla extract until it's all damp. Don't worry about it being all smooth and perfect. That's really against the whole spirit of a cobbler.

Spoon the dough by tablespoonfuls; leave little bits of cherry peeking through. Bake about 35 min until golden yellow and just starting to get brown.

Soooo good. Serve it up hot with vanilla ice cream.

"The Godfather" Bread Soup

Yesterday, Alex and I finally got around to watching The Godfather and The Godfather II. I know; it's shocking that we hadn't seen them before. And now having seen them, I'm even more appalled, because they are so very freaking good. I think I need to see III even though I heard it's not so great, because I want to see what happens next. In any case, what could make any experience watching The Godfather better than eating some amazing Italian Bread Soup? Now apparently, the soup I made might be Tuscan, not Sicilian, but I think it's close enough and whatever region it's from, it's amazing. So, for a rough facsimilie of what I had last night, you could just click this recipe for Pappa al Pomodoro. But for something even yummier, that you can have for two meals, do this. A few days before you want the bread soup, make this amazing Rustic Cabbage Soup from 101 Recipes. Accompany it with some baked French or white, country bread. Have that for a few meals until you get kind of sick of it and have a medium pot left, and about 1/3 loaf of the white bread. Then take the soup and put it in a big pot over low-medium heat. Add 1-16 oz. can of diced tomatoes. Add a 16 oz can of organic, low-sodium tomato soup. Stir gently. Toss in bite-sized chunks of the stale French or white bread. Do not stir -- the bread's too delicate for that. Gently push in the bread so it soaks up the liquid. Serve hot with grated parmesan cheese on top. Tocca a te...Buona fortuna!

Lawyer, Store Owner, Housewife?

"The Christmas Wife." No, it's not the title of a Lifetime Original Movie. It's me. It's what I was thinking I would call a TV show or movie based on what I've been doing lately. Now that I'm not a "lawyer," and the idea of saying I'm a "writer" just seems ridiculous given how much time I actually spend writing as compared to cooking, I'm not really sure what my identity is. But "wife" will do for now, I suppose. How about "baker"?

My 2009 resolution was to make a perfect cream-based pie. I have to find a new resolution because I did it. It wasn't that hard. Just follow the recipe in Joy of Cooking exactly. That means where it says whole milk, you use whole milk, not skim (who knew milk fats were so important?). Where it says bring to a bare simmer, you don't let that bad boy boil. And for God's sake, where it says to toast the shredded coconut at 300, don't just throw it in the oven at 400 because you already have a freaking lasagna in there and you just figure you can get away with it if you watch it really closely. Nope. Do it EXACTLY like Joy says.

Now, I wish some people actually read this freaking blog, for instance, people who make Red Velvet cakes. Or people who just really know their cake and want to contribute their favorite Red Velvet cake recipe. Because unfortunately, Joy doesn't have a recipe for Red Velvet cake, and I made the one posted by Sara Moulton on the Food Network site. What a terrible disappointment. The icing was great (how can you go wrong with an entire POUND of creamcheese, and the cake was indeed very, very red. It was unfortunately dry, not as tall as I would've liked, and flavorless. I don't think I overbeat the cake, but even if I did, that wouldn't explain the flavorlessness.... I think the recipe just isn't that great. Quantities seem off. You'd be better off buying a Betty Crocker white cake and adding 2 tbsps of red food coloring and a quarter cup of cocoa than making this recipe. But by all means, make the frosting! Just put it on a more worthy cake.

Other recent firsts: first pork chops, first lasagna, first many different types of cookies. Not lemon bars though. Those I've been making for years.

Advice for cooking holiday favorites: play Christmas music really loudly. It makes you feel like you're in this fabulous holiday musical. Wear a holiday apron. Sing along to the music, even the really cheesy songs you don't like. Talk to your pets! You'll feel like Snow White meets It's a Wonderful Life.

Holiday stuff I did lately: a seemingly endless pile of Christmas cards. It took hours; enough to watch the Woody Allen movie Love and Death (very funny send up of Russian lit), two episodes of Emeril Green's cooking show (Cajun cooking was the topic of one. Can't remember the other.), two episodes of Wife Swap (horrifically entertaining), and one episode of a show called the First 48 Hours (unrepentantly grim with major gleams of bleakness). So, like five hours. And I already worked on it a few hours in the preceeding days. Wow. If you didn't get a Christmas card from me, then here's your big "Merry Christmas, Love Heather & Alex." Hope that'll do, because I'm not doing any more.

Previously: Shopping. I'm almost 100% done. Luckily I did it almost all ahead of time. That really, really helps make Christmas more fun. However, I do still have to brave the stores for one last gift. For those of you who haven't begun your shopping yet, all I can say is that I've been there too, and may the Lord have mercy on your souls.

Tomorrow: I have to stamp and mail the freaking cards, wrap the Christmas presents for faraway family, and ship them off. I can't stand packing the presents in boxes... way too much spacial reasoning for my pleasure. Boringly enough, I also have to do some menial chores: laundry, dishes, cleaning. But then there's the thing I really want to do, which is to make a gingerbread house. Guess which one I'm prioritizing? Gingerbread house, I'm gonna make you. I don't care if you're difficult and not all that tasty. A house made out of candy just sounds too sweet not to make.

Tomorrow is pretty typical of my days these days. Is it wrong that I actually kind of like it? I wonder if I should feel guilty that I'm "just" a housewife. Truth is, if there was no money worry attached, it would be a pretty greaqt gig. However, money is an object, and I do wonder if eventually I'd feel unfulfilled or regret leaving the workforce (though never will I regret leaving the public defender office).

So what to do next: I'm thinking of opening a clothing shop. That might be more interesting than being a lawyer. My worries about that are that we might not stay in Tacoma. It wouldn't make sense to start a shop here if we're moving back to Seattle (or elsewhere). But I have a lot of experience with retail and I do love clothes, and I love business, and it would be a great thing to be my own boss. But then there's that worrying voice in my head that says, "What about the economy? Are you seriously considering starting a small business during this terrible economic downturn?" and "You could make so much more money being a lawyer!"

Oh, and in case you've been reading long enough to know that I have been considering starting a wedding planning business, I still think it's a great idea, but my location is not ideal for it. I don't have many contacts in Tacoma yet, and I'm just a leetel to far for it to make sense to commute to my clients and vendors up in Seattle. Plus the economy thing again... who is seriously going to pay to have their wedding planned if they're worried about losing their jobs? So that idea's on the backburner for now to dust off for later.

There are some interesting law job prospects that I'm seriously considering. I am definitely not completely tossing out that possibility. It will be fascinating for me to see what the new year brings.

INCREDIBLY Delicious: Cherry Tamarind Pork Tenderloin

As you probably know, pork tenderloin is the filet mignon of pork. But even a filet mignon can use a twist now and then. If you want a reasonably easy dinner that tastes remarkably high end, try my recipe that I invented last night.

I started with a 1.5 pound tenderloin, which is a little larger than the 100% perfect tenderloin should be, but ensures some delicious leftovers. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Next, take Tom Douglass's "Pork Rub" and rub the pork generously. Place pork in a square, glass baking dish. Next, take two cans of Oregon brand tart cherries. (NOT pie filling -- the cherries). Drain one can and set aside the juice. Use the cans of cherries to make a fabulous pie according to the recipe on the inside of the can, if you like. Take the drained juice from one can, and put in a sautee pan, along with one tbsp cornstarch, and 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon Tamco tamarind sauce, according to taste. Stir constantly over medium heat until sauce thickens, about 4 minutes. Once the sauce is thick, pour it over the tenderloin, making sure to cover the exposed skin. This keeps your tenderloin juicy. (Since it's incredibly lowfat, it has a tendency to dry out. This is also why to cook it at a higher temp for a shorter time rather than slowroasting it).

Pop the pork in the oven for about 30 to 40 min. Remove from oven when meat thermometer inserted into thickest part reads 145 degrees.

Enjoy your pork. My side dish was a green salad and Zataran's long grain wild rice. Start it right after you put in the pork and the timing should be about perfect. Surprisingly delicious. And with the pie... what an incredible dinner!

Happy cooking!

What to Do When You Have the Flu

My brief blog telling you what sucks and what rocks when you have the flu!

Here's what sucks:
The way you feel

Here's what's great:

Dirt
The second season of this fast-paced FX tabloid-centric drama was cut woefully short due to the writer's strike, but the quick-'n-dirty plots with an easy to follow story arch are perfect when you're running a 99 degree fever. If it gets worse, you're going to need something like….

The Dead Girl
This movie reminds you of why it's good to not be a corpse, even if you're pretty sure that the flu is actually going to kill you. I'm not sure the movie has much more meaning beyond that but it's cinematographically fascinating and there are some great performances in it by Toni Colette, Brittany Murphy, and others. And there was a lovely line about trees and sky that got repeated a couple of times. I really liked this movie and I have no idea why.

The Husky Deli Split Pea Soup
Oh my word. I've always been a big fan of the Husky Deli in general. It has all the fancy foreign foods with none of the uppity attitude. Plus the best homemade ice cream in Seattle, and my favoritest deli sandwich, the Turkish Delight (cream cheese, turkey meat, and mango chutney – get it grilled and praise the Lord for its sweet and savory amazingness!). But I've never had the split pea soup until today. It is sooooo good. It's not a murky, grayish-green-brown mush. It's a wonderful soup with wonderful, fresh tasting peas. So creamy and good. Awesome!

Ratatouille
Pixar is awesome for children and sick people. I'm sure other people like it too. Anyway, this is a cute movie about a rat who dreams of being a chef. I liked it, but then again, by this time my fever was up to 101 and my ears hurt which made me need my Spiderman doll.
What else…

The Riches
This show is so good. It's about the Irish "travelers" and their scheming, conning ways. Eddie Izzard and Minnie Driver are so good, even if Izzard's American accent is not 100% believable.

Other Assorted Good Things to Have Around:
The cats!
Bunny slippers
Unlimited liquids
Chicken Soup with Sautéed Garlic
Blankies

Travel to Long Beach, Washington

I wrote this over President’s Day weekend, but never posted. Hope you enjoy hearing about my little trip.

Writing from Long Beach, Washington: It’s a beautiful night. I’m out on the balcony of my 3rd floor room at the Chataqua Lodge Hotel, watching at the sun set into the surf of the Pacific. The frogs sing a jubilant chorus to the setting sun as its afterglow sends gold, peach, fuschia, flamingo pink, daffodil yellow streamers into the cold dome of sky. And to the north and south, mauve, lavender, slate bleed like watercolors into the deeper blue sea.

First – Bases:
Yesterday morning we began our journey. The night before, I couldn’t sleep. My mind was ready to go much, much earlier than my body. I don’t know why I was so excited. I’m a traveler, right? Why so excited about a three hour road trip? Well, whatever the reason, I was, and I made Alex wake up way too early too. The sun had barely risen when we headed south through White Center and Burien and down I-5. We turned west at Camp Murray, and I got to see where he does his JAG thing. I only saw it from the outside – a tiny, unassuming building, but the fact that I didn’t have to walk over any empty meth baggies or broken crack pipes on the sidewalk to get there make it seem luxe compared to my office. We stopped across the street at Gallopin’ Gerties – an old-school diner with a heart of gold. Our waitress was the kindhearted sort of diner waitress that you can’t help but call a "gal." She reminded me of a great photo-essay in a recent issue of Bust which featured diner waitresses. I have a whole new respect for the ladies who can serve coffee and real good food for twenty plus years, always with a smile. She even took my fussy egg-white and veggie omelette order with only an indulgent smile and an "o.k., sweetie."

Next we went to Ft. Lewis, which has always held some strange fascination for me. Maybe I like watching the Army guys going about their business in their green uniforms and bad haircuts. I like going through the gate, the whole feeling like it’s a border crossing. But most importantly, I love to go to the PX, which for most civilians probably either doesn’t ring any bells or if it does, it’s probably a "who cares" reaction. But the PX is amazing. It’s like a huge Target, but there’s no tax on anything. Because of this, I decided to buy a Zune 80 gig mp3 player (I’m still waiting to find out if that was a mistake). Anyway, the most notable thing besides not paying tax was that there was a huge line of people waiting to see some ultimate fighting champion dude named Iceman or something like that. A HUGE line. People we lined up all around the PX, which is like a mall, so it was a mass of people, mostly young enlisted guys. And they waited patiently for this white trash on ’roids looking guy to sign his cheesy-looking book on which he is pictured topless. (You know, for an organization that is not exactly pro-homo, there’s a lot of homoerotic stuff going on with some of these military guys… )

Something else you may not know about the military: not all branches are created equally. For instance, we had to go to McChord AFB because Ft. Lewis was out of the 80 gig Zune but McChord had it. So when we went to the McChord PX, Alex and I ran into this jail guard from King County Jail. He’s a retired Marine guy, wearing his Semper Fi hat. Ass. I fucked with him when I saw him, saying, "Oh, I didn’t know you were retired Air Force." Boy did he get pissed. He then gave Alex crap about being in the Army National Guard. This guy has the IQ of a slow iguana (and the looks of one as well), but was still all prideful about being a Marine. I think that’s my least favorite branch. They seem the most brutish and possibly evil of the branches of the military. But what the hell do I know?
I never thought I’d be an Army wife. But it’s different, right? My guy's an officer, an Army JAG, for gawd’s sake. Not some jarhead. Does that make sense? It’s still weird that I’m marrying into the military, after all those years trying to escape my dad’s military career. (It’s not Freudian, either. Alex has dark hair and my dad is blonde. And Navy, not Army. Seriously.)

Long Beach:
Long Beach is cheesy and touristy, like most seaside towns. It’s better than Ocean Shores – it just seems to have a friendlier vibe. One thing I noticed is that there were a lot of gay tourists out – and gay tourists would seem to have better taste, wouldn’t they? I should probably know better than to speak in such generalities. In any case, it’s pretty nice.

The first night we got there, we realized that we’d forgotten to eat lunch, so we were hungry at about 5:00 p.m. This worked out well for us because we wanted to check out the 42nd St. Café, which was packed with people having late Valentine’s celebrations. We got in right at the time another party had cancelled. For dinner, we ordered the Valentine’s meal, which was a special menu and came with a free pearl choker for me. We started with the fried green tomatoes, which the friendly and fey waiter correctly advised us "they did exceptionally well." Next we had deliciously fresh wild green salads, with exquisite dressings. I particularly liked my dill and feta dressing. For the entrée, Alex had the duck, which was outrageously good. My only fault was the rockfish with pineapple. It was flavorless and weird tasting – the worst rockfish I ever had. I had to ask the waiter to bring me some more of the dill and feta salad dressing to make it edible. Yes, I poured freaking salad dressing on my fish. All was forgiven after I ate dessert. We had the warm blackberry crisp with ice cream, and it was scrumptious.

The Chautauqua Lodge was one of those somewhat run-down, unfashionable beach places. It was clean and the desk help seemed a little white-trashy. I left my favorite sweatpants there, which really upsets me because they were from REI and were so comfy and fuzzy. Sucks. Anyway, the place was so-so – rough sheets, uncomfortable bed, blah décor – but fabulous in how close to the beach it was. Very conducive to daytime adventures and moonlit hikes.

Cape Disappointment Lighthouse & North Head Lighthouse:
These lighthouses at the south end of Long Beach Peninsula are beautiful and very scenic. Cape Disappointment has the distinction of being the oldest functioning lighthouse on the Pacific. However, I didn’t do the tours of them because I’ve already been on a number of lighthouse tours (Heceta Head, Westport, others) but there are excellent hikes around the area that we did and which I highly recommend.

One cool thing about the lighthouses is that there are two of them, because Cape Disappointment is so dangerous that the sea offshore is known as the "Graveyard of the Pacific." Mariners still need a special certification in order to navigate the waters into the mouth of the Columbia River. http://www.funbeach.com/attractions/lighthouse.html

Leadbetter Point Bird Sanctuary:
This beautiful bird sanctuary at the north end of the peninsula is full of amazing views and hikes, and lots of birds. However, it was incredibly muddy and some areas were completely flooded. Unfortunately Alex and I didn’t have our hip waders along with us, so we had to cut our hike short. Which gave us time to go ride horsies on the beach!
Horsies on the Beach!:

There are pics in my photo album. Check it out. So fun.

Pelicano’s:
We heard great things about a restaurant called The Ark, but it apparently closed, so went to new restaurant called Pelicano’s in Ilwaco. Located in the south end of the peninsula, Ilwaco is less touristy and more upscale, featuring a quaint harbor and a relaxed pace of life – kind of like Wallingford crossed with Shilshole. The food was wonderful and reasonably priced considering the quality. Plus, they had one of the best desserts I’ve ever eaten, which was an ice cream "sandwich" made out of baked meringue cookies with pomegranate ice cream in the middle. Yummy yummy yum.

Only downside? The snooty waitress (yeah, waitress. Not server) was of the "aren’t you so lucky that you get to eat here?… you so don’t deserve to be here" type. A side note: we stopped after dinner at this beautiful lake just as we were leaving Ilwaco. The moonlight shining on it was just unreal. So still and perfect and peaceful, with frogs and bugs singing to the moon. I want to leave Seattle and go home, and this could be it.

Long Beach at Night:
First night, we walked along the dunes and up to the ocean, except the ocean looked so huge and alien that I was literally terrified that it was going to turn into a tsunami. I kept a wary eye on it as we made our way along the shore. We saw a fire burning and thought how cool it would be to hang out at the bonfire. We joked that we should just crash the people’s party and just go on up to the bonfire, but as we got closer to the fire, we could see that indeed, there was no one there. We went up to the fire and confirmed the builders of the fire had recently left. We both were uneasy. It felt strange, like an ambush was possible. Why would people build a fire and then just leave? After a time, we found that hanging out at the fire was less pleasant that it originally looked. If we were upwind of the fire, it was cold; downwind was smoky. There was nowhere you could sit comfortably and be close enough to enjoy the warmth of the fire. Plus there was a distinct feeling that we were being watched. We left the mystery fire and went back to the artificial but dependable warmth of our semi-shabby hotel room at the Chautauqua.

The last night in Long Beach, we went for a long, late, moonlit walk on the beach. It was surprisingly mild outside, walking amongst the silvered grass of the dunes, and down to the water. We wandered the beach, trying to figure out what everything was from afar. We had a terrifying moment when we couldn’t figure out what this weird-looking apparition floating out above the water was. Alex said it looked like one of the creatures from War of the Worlds. And to me, suddenly, it was. He was braver than I and went closer to the alien invader to investigate and possibly counterattack. However, the alien suddenly disguised itself very cleverly as a big sign up on a pole. (Why are there signs in the ocean? Who puts signs in the ocean??)

Fort Columbia:
I love how when you fall in love, you find out these wonderful things about your partner, things that they might not have been sure you would be o.k. with but then you wind up loving it. My guy likes, of all things, old forts and battlefields. I am into haunted spaces and forgotten corners, which actually works pretty well with his thing. At all these old sites, there’s enough creepy abandoned stuff to keep my imagination engaged and to make me happy too.

Fort Columbia features abandoned bunkers and observation decks out over the meeting-place of the Pacific and the mighty Columbia, some well-kept and oft-visited by tourists, some overgrown and isolated, even dangerous. We trekked up and down trails, which were actually listed as unpassable. We had to climb over fallen trees. We probably hiked for three hours. It made me want to hike like crazy. Alex makes me want to do everything more. More hiking, more horseback riding, more movies, more symphonies. I want to do it all, with him, over and over again. (I can’t believe I get to marry this guy!)

So now we’ve been to a few of these old military sites. The Civil War trenches at the Shirley plantation on the James River, Virgnina. Fort Worden up in Port Townsend. Friday Harbor British Camp and American Camp (site of the great Pig War – started because a British soldier allegedly shot an American pig. Seriously.) And when I was recently in Hawaii, I went to Pearl Harbor and the U.S. Army Museum of Hawaii. I guess he’s rubbing off on me.

Driving Stick:
Only really notable thing about the ride home is that Alex took us to an abandoned part of Ft. Lewis and gave me a lesson driving stick shift on his Mustang. And that just shows that love makes you do some crazy shit: go to abandoned bunkers, trust your fiancé to drive your sportscar, even really outlandish behavior, like inviting someone to spend your whole life together. Ain’t love grand?

Los Angeles, I'm Yours

I have the above-titled Decemberists song stuck in my head. That song is actually not a celebration of Los Angeles, but a sort of ironically melancholy lovesong. But here in Seattle, exhausted and... grey-feeling, I sing it, meaning it, without irony. It's raining and cold and grey and miserable and damp, and it reminds me of that September when I first moved here eleven years ago, and it rained for months on end. What a terrible winter that was. None have been that bad since, but winter in Seattle is just not a good thing. So Los Angeles was a welcome change. The sun shone in soft golden rays that actually warmed me up, unlike the pathetically weak grayish rays that suffice as "sunshine" in wintertime Seattle.

Should I just say I had a great time in L.A.? O.k., I had a great time. But maybe you're more detail-oriented than that. Maybe you want to know exactly what went down. I'm going to tell you. Everything. (You already know that's a lie, don't you? I have many secrets…) I'm going to give you the PG version, o.k.? Read between the lines or don't, up to you.

Tuesday, Wednesday (South Pasadena):
My first night: warm air and car fumes waiting for the shuttle to EZ Rental. I could feel excitement shimmying down the cement pylons and up my spine, adventures waiting to happen. L.A. is waiting for me to live it.

I had my first experience driving the L.A. freeways, going from LAX to Pasadena at night. I was so thoroughly freaked out at the prospect of driving that I found it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be.

Dave Stone's house is in South Pasadena. The night was much quieter than where I live in West Seattle, and palm trees swayed in time with orange-scented breezes, dancing with their deciduous partners. Dave's room is cozy and dry, nestled in a rooftop, and featured a couple of great Beatles posters. We had delicious noodles at a place in Chinatown… I wish I could remember the name of it. We went back to Dave's place. I like Tosh; he's a fancy Japanese dog. I think Lily is maybe an Aries; I know she's part Chow and she scares me because she barks a lot and stinks. Dogs are fun, but they are very smelly and dirty. I was talking with a friend in L.A. about how I'm going to write a book called, "The Problem with Dogs." It was really funny at the time.

Anyway, the next day, we drove back to Chinatown and looked around. We checked out a cool artsy shop called Ooga Booga. We went to Old Town Pasadena. It's got an H&M, where I did a little damage. I seem to be powerless over jewel tones. This season it's sapphire and teal. Last season it was violet and plum. What next? Don't worry; I won't do something horrible, like wear yellow.

Griffith Park: Just as cool as I remember from before, except that I'm not a 26 year old idiot (I'm a wizened 29 now, of course), and they've dug out two whole floors underneath the observatory. There are some really cool new exhibits, including one where you can simulate what would happen if an asteroid, comet, or other object were to hit the earth (hint: sometimes the world blows up!).

The night ended with me not getting to hang out with Daniel House because I had to meet up with these other people that Dave and I know. It was imperative and hopefully Daniel House doesn't think I'm a complete douche.

Thursday (Downtown, Santa Monica)
I went running at the Arroyo Seco, which is a huge gorge in Pasadena. My run originated at a horse ranch, led me next to the L.A. River and under the graceful curves of the Colorado Street Bridge, and I finally turned back at the Rose Bowl. As I ran in the shadow of the bridge, the song "Everything in its Right Place" by Radiohead came up on my iPod, and my runner's high kicked in. Need I tell you it was a transcendental experience? It was genuine and empowering, unlike the acid I dropped on my last visit to L.A., which was exciting but also left me frightened and vulnerable and feeling a million miles from myself and everyone else on the planet.

Later Dave and I hit Scoops, this amazing ice cream place. I had the Brown Bread flavor. I know, it sounds disgusting, but actually, it was incredible! It was mostly sweet and carmeley with crunchy bits, reminiscent of brown bread without tasting like a glob of raw dough as I had feared. Dave had the Sesame Ginger. Spicy and refreshing, sweet but not cloying. (Just like me, right?)

Before I knew it, it was time to go to Downtown. For some reason, "going Downtown" seemed almost as intimidating as "driving on L.A. freeways," so Dave was kind enough to lead me to the very exit I needed, and then I forged ahead on my own. I looked about, wide-eyed, at what appeared to be a bunch of road construction and old factories, and nothing that possibly looked like it could be a place anyone would ever deem "home." Donihue (the second of my L.A. Daves, as I like to call them) didn't pick up his phone. I tried again. "Dave, it's me. I'm here. Where are you?" Sent a text. "I'm here. Where u at?" And again, ring, ring, no answer. Panicked, I drove in circles, going down increasingly sketchy streets, and occasionally completely ignoring road signs (such as No U-Turn, Stop, and speed limit signs of all stripe). Finally I gave up and parked next to the side of the road, with the engine on and in drive, hands on the wheel and right foot on the gas, just in case. I later found out that the place I parked was in EAST L.A. That's right, folks; I've been to East L.A. and I lived to tell the tale! Though I guess these days, people are moving there. Soon it'll be the new Los Feliz.

Finally I heard from Donihue and we met up. He lives in a really cool loft, or maybe I should say lived, because he was in the process of moving out. I hung out while he frantically dealt with issues involving trailers and European releases and situations in India and what seemed to be a million different time obligations. The combination of the moving-related chaos in his house plus all the work he so obviously had to do informed me that despite his generous offer, to stay there would be to get in his way. So, we went to Japantown and had sushi and sesame chicken. L.A. has such great restaurants. After, I walked down the street, my fuschia dress flapping in the breeze and me daintily holding it down, while Mexican construction worker dudes gave my self-esteem a big boost.

We walked back to my car, and Dave gave me one of the best hugs ever. Awww… Dave Donihue! He's the best! Such a friend. A joke, told by Donihue: "So I was dating this girl and she was smart, and funny, and drop-dead gorgeous, but I had to break up with her. I told her, 'I just don't want to be in a long distance relationship, you know? I mean, I live here in Downtown and you're all the way in Santa Monica. That's like seven miles from here!'" I told everyone that joke. Hee.

Off to Santa Monica. I was not excited to drive west to Santa Monica in rush hour traffic, but it wasn’t that bad. Of course, going from west to east must have taken those poor people an hour and a half to get home. Ridiculous. I wended my way through the wall-to-wall traffic and eventually saw the exit to Santa Monica. I like the road directions to Santa Monica… it's basically like this: "Drive west. When you get to the Pacific Ocean, turn right and park."

Time to meet Jamie and watch the sunset. I put my bags at his place and together we walked the across the street to Santa Monica Pier (yeah that's right. He's oceanfront…. Hot!). I went and tried to get perfect sunset pictures with seagulls flying in the camera's path. The whole Jonathan Livingston Seagull look, you know? I would've settled for some Christian inspirational card look, but the light was no good for that. But I got a couple of nice pictures of the ferris wheel and the octopus thing and Jamie.
They have these outdoor movies at the pier and lucky us, they were screening Roman Holiday that night. Of course it was freezing right on the waterfront, and even with all those layers, it wasn't warm enough, so we watched it back at Jamie's. Lovely film, that.

Friday, Saturday (all over)
Friday morning, I had a headache and so I laid there for two hours waiting for the storm to pass. Bad, bad headache. After that, I felt much better and so went for a run from Santa Monica to Venice Beach and back. Some wonderful views and some, well, hmm. I saw a lot of things, like a beautiful young woman who seemed to think it was a great idea to wear orange spandex stretch pants with a pink and purple tie-dyed spandex top, and her hair in a pink and orange scrunchie on top of her head. Awesome! Venice Beach is full of all kind of fat tourists and lean locals being awesome at beach sports. Hot guys spiking volleyballs, abs and pecs gleaming copper in the high noon sun, while chubby Midwesterners shot pictures of real, live Californians. I saw some of the best skateboarding of my life, one guy with that low key casual "who me? Oh yeah, I guess I sorta do rock" kind of thing, another who was more overt about his skatergod status, punishing the pavement like a dom disciplining her Bellevue businessman.
After running I had to go back and hot myself up for the super-special behind the scenes tour of Paramount. It was really fun but it would probably not be as interesting to read about as it was to go to. Let's just say that I'm now tight with Jesus the security guard, I know Jamie's boss secretly wants to give me his extra (yeah, extra) plum-colored Vespa, and I know where Lucille Ball liked to kick it back in the day. And maybe, just maybe, when I was on my way from Astroburger back to Paramount to get my car… maybe I saw a three name celeb. But I couldn't tell you about it, because that's not very L.A. cool to do so, now is it? So I won't tell you about illy ob ornton and his ig eesey-ass grin at me. I guess even big old stars still think a purdy girl is purdy. Well, at least I'd know he's not phobic about making a lifelong commitment – he's done it a few times now!

I hung out again with Dave Stone and our mutual friends in Los Feliz that night. Our friends rock. I thought I lost my shawl that's 90% knitted (that's taken me nearly a year to work on so far) and had to invoke the good old Catholic standby, the prayer to St. Anthony to intercede in helping find lost things. I found it! St. Tony is such a badass, awesome saint.

Afterwards I met Jamie and his friend Mary at Birds, this trendy place in Hollywood that film industry people like to hang out at. The best part was when it started raining and all the starlet wannabes and trendsters had to crowd under umbrellas, while their Uggs (yeah, people still wear 'em. Seriously, ladies. What's up with that?) got soaked and their make-up became mussed.

The next day, Jamie and I had delicious crepes in Santa Monica at the aptly named Café Crepe. Is there anyone out there who can make the case that the nutella/banana combo is NOT the best crepe ever? I think not.
Afterwards, it was raining. WTF?? In fact, it was raining so hard that the streets flooded. See, since it rarely (not never) rains in Southern California, they don't put drains in the streets. So, just crossing the street, my jeans were wet to the knee and my shoes full of water. Thus, we did the only sensible thing to do: we went shopping. At Planet Funk I got a really cute Tokidoki shirt which features all kinds of insanity, like little dudes in cow costumes with Tommy guns, and evil milk cartons with horns. Double awesome! High school kids go into seizures of jealousy when they see it. I also checked out the new Sarah Jessica Parker (hint: shop carefully. The clothes are inexpensive, but some of them feel even cheaper than they are).

Later, I met up with Ashley. The rain had stopped and we enjoyed a coffee and a walk and a talk. She so rules. I'm sure she's going to be a hugely successful photographer someday. Next I went to Benihana. I had the lobster and the fillet mignon. But then, so did he.

Grabbed Ashley in Hollywood and raced downtown to some gallery show with Dave Donihue and his friend, and unfortunately we were only able to stay for about 15 mins because it was getting late and we were late for Dash Snow's show in Chinatown, and the galleries there close at 10 p.m. We only got to be there for a few minutes as it was, but the cool thing was this. The entire gallery space was one huge lightbox with his photos lined up against it. Everyone except for me was wearing black and seemed to have darker hair. I had on this fairly hot teal dress and you know what my hair is like. It was an ultravividscene moment.

I had fun hanging out with my friend Melissa's cousin Steven and his cousin Shari. We watched The Thrones with a sinking realization that we were wasting a lot of hearing damage on something unpleasant to listen to. But we really wanted to stay for Abe Vigoda. Ashley was amazing when she pointed out that they were not, in fact, Jade Pagoda, which is what I was calling them. It's just easier to say, o.k.? So, they were these fun, noisy kids having a great time on stage. Reasonably listenable and unreasonably cute.

Sunday (western L.A. and beyond)
My last day. Met up with Dave at some place and ordered from the kid's menu (you can do that without raising eyebrows in L.A. Everyone's on some kind of diet. I love that.) Then we drove all over the western parts of L.A. so that I could start to learn more about some of the neighborhoods. If I could afford it, I'd like to live in the west. Santa Monica would probably be my first choice, but it's pricey… maybe I can come up with some sort of deal? We'll see.

In the meantime, I'm here. I'm working some overtime, selling everything I can, trying to save up money. I'm culling needless people and activities and expenses and time sucks from my life. Sorry if you don't hear from me. I still love you. I'm just busy trying to do something with my life. I'm writing again and I'll be doing even more soon. This is a difficult thing about writing and friends: I kinda have to be alone to do it, unless you want to get together with me for coffee and writing. In that case, we’ll avoid speaking to each other, listen to our iPods, and occasionally look up over our laptops like we're playing Battleship (thanks, Shawn).

I think I gotta leave. I love Seattle. You know that. But I'll write about that some other time. For now, know this: as much as I love it, I need to move on. I need to shelve my past and the future that I dreamed about that can't happen. I need to have new dreams, new dramas, hell, even new disappointments. A future of sunshine and smog.