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Back in the neighborhood

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I rejoined the 21st century yesterday. After almost a year without home internet, I finally bought a new computer. (Thanks, Economic Stimulus Plan.)

I can’t deny my excitement–after all, it’s been about eight months since I updated my iPod. I’ve spent the morning adding albums to my iTunes, updating my facebook status to reflect the albums I’ve loaded and texting friends to let them know how many albums I’ve added. (It was 33 at last count, but will be 50-plus by the time I finish. I guess I’ve acquired a few new CDs since my last update!) I’m also thrilled to death with how fast my iPod updates now. My old laptop’s USB ports were not high speed–and oh my gosh, it makes a huge difference. It would have taken eight or nine hours to load 4,000 songs on the old machine. It might have taken an hour last night to bring this thing up to date.

(Yes, I realize I essentially bought this machine so I could update my iPod. Shut up.)

But at the same time, there’s a hint of bittersweetness in this new acquisition. Although it was inconvenient at times, it was sort of nice to be disconnected when I left the office. Now I’ll be able to get directions without texting Google, and I’m certain I’ll be more faithful to this here blog. I can’t wait to look up recipes that use buttermilk when I look in my fridge and realize I’m about to let it go to waste. But I know I’ll also work more after hours and occasionally fight sleep by playing on facebook. (I did not miss facebook.)

I know this, though. A home computer isn’t as essential as we think. I’m hoping (perhaps naively) that mine will still spend a good portion of its time turned off and stowed away.

But that won’t happen until after I finish updating my iPod, for sure.

I’m writing you to catch you up on places I’ve been

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I misplaced my camera a while back. I say misplaced instead of lost because I know it’s in my apartment, somewhere. In the months since it went missing, I’ve relied even more heavily on other people for photos.

Well, both Elisa and I were camera-less for last weekend’s Jazz Fest in New Orleans… but this is what I would have shown you, had I the means.

  • An overcast, windy day
    We arrived at the festival an hour after it started on Friday. Mission one: Food. (We both had crawfish etouffe and cheap, flavorless, domestic beer. I quickly learned that Jazz Fest is all about the food.) Mission two: Set up camp. The main stage wasn’t terribly crowded, perhaps because the sky promised rain. A less crowded festival and breezes to keep us cool made for a glorious afternoon.
  • A dork with a book
    The sky finally delivered just before Stevie Wonder’s set. Everyone scrambled for their ponchos when it began sprinkling, then pulled them off when it cleared up, only to scramble again 10 minutes later. The rain was persistent, forcing me to protect my book from the weather and read through my translucent orange poncho. (Yeah, that’s right. I said I was forced. Putting the book away was not an option!) Someone out there actually has a picture of this… the people next to us found me pretty amusing, I suppose.
  • A dancing hippie (or a few thousand dancing hippies)
    While I was racing toward the final pages of Paper Towns, Elisa threw back her hood and danced in the falling rain. Neighboring dancers even invited her to join them. I suspect she might have had as much fun as I did reading my book!
  • The best festival moment, ever
    As Stevie finally launched into “Signed, Sealed, Delivered” (thank you, California Raisins, for introducing me to this song so many years ago!), the sky responded with equal abandon. Rain poured on what remained of the crowd, and the New Orleans Fairgrounds became a beautiful, muddy dance party. (I was still reading, for a few songs longer anyway.)
  • The aftermath
    The rain returned early the next morning (not that I know from personal experience–I slept through the storm!). By the time we returned to the festival, it was a barely-controlled mud pit. We spread a beach mat below our chairs, prepared to throw it out at the end of the day. We’re smart girls–appropriate shoes and appropriate attire meant that the only mud on us was from our fellow spectators stepping on instead of around us.
  • The look on my face when I realized Community Coffee uses powdered creamer
    Not. OK.
  • Two sleepy girls
    A day in the sun, surrounded by Parrotheads, makes for two smelly, exhausted girls. I was so disgusting when we returned to our hostess’ house that I sat on the floor instead of furniture while I awaited my turn to shower. But exhaustion didn’t keep us from making a late night fast food run…
  • A gorgeous day for eating outside
    We skipped the final day of the festival, instead sleeping in and taking a lazy Sunday morning. I met an old friend who lives nearby for lunch. We sat on the restaurant’s deck, with a view of the water a block away. It was the kind of day when you never want to go inside again.
  • A dork with a deck of cards
    Yeah, I played solitaire on the (passenger side) floorboard of my car during the drive home. And I lost. Every time.
  • Two happy girls
    Road trips with friends have to be one of my favorite things. I could do without gas prices and travel time, but without them, would we have six hours of Beatles, multiple boxes of Nerds and more enthusiastic laughter than I can recount? Doubtful.

I may not have anything physical to show for a long weekend away, but I have memories, music and friends. Sometimes, misplacing your camera isn’t so bad.

It’s so fine, it’s sunshine

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Assorted thoughts:

The Magic City Brewfest website has been updated for 2008!

And speaking of festivals… I’ve been surprised recently as I’ve learned that some people don’t like festivals. It never occurred to me that anyone wouldn’t, but several people have been curious as to why my schedule has been filled with these events recently. (Last week brought the Alabama Crawfish Festival in Faunsdale on Friday, and the Old 280 Boogie in Waverly on Saturday. This weekend, I’ll probably spend three days at Magic City Art Connection. Next weekend I’ll hit the New Orleans Jazz Fest. The end of May brings Magic City Brewfest, and June promises City Stages.) I guess sitting in the sunshine, listening to music and drinking beer isn’t for everyone, but spending Saturday at the Boogie was glorious.

I’m running myself ragged, yet again. I’m looking forward to finding a day or two sometime to sleep in and pad around the apartment in my pajamas all day long. I don’t expect that to happen soon, though…

How do I feel by the end of the day?

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

One good turn deserves another, right? Missy Marie fearlessly plagiarized something I wrote a few weeks ago, and now I’m doing the same to her.

Although we’re five hours apart, distance isn’t much a factor in mine and A Re’s friendship. We talk on the phone probably 15 times a week (and I like to hope that most of the text messages in my in and out boxes are hers, because we’ve got free mobile-to-mobile and I hate getting charged for exceeding my text limit!). While we were chatting the other night, she was finalizing a blog entry that included a list of things that make her happy. She read them aloud, curious to see how many would appear if I made a list.

A list? Of things that make me happy? Sounds like a good antidote to a week filled with allergies and appointments (even if those appointments could, theoretically, be included on said list). So now, with nothing but love in my heart, I’m ripping off and editing her list, then adding a few of my own.

Things that make me happy

  • Hot tea and a good book lying in my big cozy bed (this is actually what I was doing when Apryl called!)
  • The beauty of flowers (especially daffodils and tulips)
  • The way that certain songs make you remember a person or an event
  • A feeling of accomplishment at the end of a work day
  • The spontaneity of just up and leaving town to go visit friends (last weekend!)
  • How sweet and perfect children are when they’re young (Heck, how obnoxious children can be, while still being completely lovable. They’re not always sweet, and they’re certainly not perfect, but I do adore them!)
  • Having friends who I know I can always count on
  • Being a friend that people know they can count on
  • The feeling of wearing high heels and pearls (I don’t actually own pearls, although you should feel free to buy me some…)
  • Movies like Breakfast at Tiffany’s, The Notebook, High Fidelity, Love Actually and Runaway Bride—stories that have a happily ever after without the story book romance (I hate hate hate HATE The Notebook, and I would have to add When Harry Met Sally, of course.)
  • Writing in my journal—not to be confused with blogging, there’s something about ink and paper (Amen, amen, amen)
  • Singing loudly and off key to sappy love songs when I’m sad and up beat pop when I’m getting ready to go out
  • A latte with 4 sugars and cinnamon powder on top
  • Learning new things
  • Looking to the future
  • Hours on the phone with my BFF
  • Being alone but not lonely
  • Ending a day of work with a vineyard wine tasting
  • Saturday and Sunday mornings spent in bed with obscene amounts of coffee and obscene amounts of reading material
  • Rereading a new favorite book, even though I just finished it two weeks ago
  • The fact that my cat is always, always so thrilled to see me that she will follow me from room to room to room (including the bathroom… crazy cat)

  • Anything with green leaves
  • Cooking for one at the end of a long day
  • Driving through rural Alabama with the windows down and The Beatles turned up
  • People who really know me
  • Pens and paper
  • Hope
  • Grace
  • Alabama
  • Blue skies
  • Enjoying a beer on a back deck with lots of friends
  • People with whom you can talk for hours without running out of things to say
  • People with whom you can be completely silent without being uncomfortable
  • Community
  • Red high heels
  • Beatles, barbecue and a book on a Friday night

You’re one with the wind through the open window

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

A good dinner in, just because.

That’s herb encrusted veal (from The Cook and The Gardener by Amanda Hesser–which I unfortunately don’t have with me, so I can’t share the recipe–but PS was an excellent excuse to use herbs de Provence) and bavette cacio e pepe. It’s a deceptively easy meal.

Bavette Cacio e Pepe
(Linguini with Cheese and Pepper)
Makes 4 servings as a first course

One is tempted to add more cheese, butter, and oil to this recipe. Resist this impulse. There should be just enough butter and oil to coat the pasta like a salad dressing, and just enough cheese to season it. If you add too much, the pasta will get oily and the cheese will make it loathsomely heavy. When done right, it’s an elegant dish with compact flavor.

Sea salt

¼ cup finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese

¼ cup finely grated pecorino Romano cheese

½ pound DeCecco brand linguini fini

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, chilled

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1 tablespoon very coarse, freshly ground black pepper

1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Sprinkle in enough sea salt so that it tastes seasoned. Meanwhile, mix the cheeses together in a small bowl. When the water boils, add the linguini and cook it for 6 minutes, stirring occasionally. Near the end of cooking, scoop out about 1/2 cup of cooking water and reserve.

2. Drain the pasta and return it to the pot. Drop in the butter, oil and 1/2 tablespoon pepper and stir with tongs or a large fork, lifting and folding the pasta together. Add about 1/4 cup of the pasta water to the pot and place it over medium-high heat. Cook for a minute, stirring to emulsify the sauce. Test a noodle to see if it’s done. It should still be a bit firm in the center, though not as stiff as licorice. Remove from the heat and sprinkle half the cheese over the pasta. Blend once more, then divide the pasta among four warm bowls. Pass the rest of the cheese and pepper at the table.

–Amanda Hesser, Cooking for Mr. Latte

I am 32 flavors and then some

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Him:

Salsa dancing?

You went to a rural festival, a coffee shop, canoeing, to a bike shop (to check on a basket), then salsa dancing?

Were you in a movie?  Were people following you with cameras?

Me:

You mean life isn’t this fascinating and quirky journey for most people?

Him:

No, probably not, and even if it is, I doubt it follows your particular regimen of carefully-assembled urban-bohemian-white person-hipster-approved activities. I mean, you completed an almost perfect circuit of all of the hipster-approved activities in one day!  If only you’d made it to a thrift store!

Before this email exchange with a friend, I didn’t think anything was unusual about my weekend. (In fact, I really still don’t.) But in a nutshell:

Thursday—Dinner at home, followed by a beer, with friends, at my favorite spot.

Friday—Plant sale at lunch (purchased thyme for my herb garden, and a fern from my grandmother, who was working that particular booth). Dinner at home, followed by a benefit event at a fancy pants department store.

Saturday—Coffee and books in bed. Skip shower—why bother when you’re going canoeing? Pick up canoe cohort and drive to rural festival. Hobnob with the folks I know (yep, I have contacts all over this town…), eat a little festival food, then hop in the boat for a quick one-mile canoe trip. (Turn the boat around and paddle upstream for a while, just to slow the journey.) Begin planning a 10.6 mile kayaking trip, as well as a May canoeing trip. Drive back into town for coffee. Run across the street to the bike shop. Entertain employees by simply being (a gift of mine?). Run back to friend’s apartment to pick up bike basket; return to shop and entertain while she exchanges and shops. Report to another friend’s apartment to meet the girls for dinner. Rummage through friend’s closet for clothes (I’m still in canoeing garb and pigtails!). Casual dinner, followed by salsa dancing. Return home 12 hours after I left, and after a much fuller day than anticipated.

Sunday—Coffee and books in bed. Get cute to make up for Saturday’s smelliness (and because it’s fun to wear skirts for no apparent reason). Brunch with church women. Hang out with my favorite 2-year-old, who was in an extra snuggly mood (perhaps because of the current insanity in his life?). Enjoyed the extra snuggles, even with his best Simba impression (that is, licking my arm from wrist to shoulder). Coffee, gossip and books. Dreams of gardening at church. Church. Casual dinner (outdoor seating!) with friends and a random guest. Return home 12 hours after I left, again after a day brimming with more activity than I had planned.

Back to the email exchange…

Me:

So… I think I am a beer snob, an 80-year-old woman, a foodie, a diva, a hipster, a yuppie, a coffee snob, a dirty hippie, a church lady, a momma, a domestic goddess and a flirt. Sound about right?

Him:

Description: That’s you, in a nutshell.  And what a complicated little nutshell you are.

Get back to where you once belonged

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Reasons why you should not read in the morning before work, No. 1:

Because it is nearly impossible to leave for work when you know that you’re 30 pages away from finding Alaska (or concluding the search for her, at least), and you can’t read and drive because that’s not safe, and oh my GOSH how are you going to make it until lunchtime without finishing your book? And it’s right there, in your purse, waiting for you. And you know it. And your friends all already know what happens, but what happens isn’t necessarily the point so much as how much you adore this author is the point. And you can eat and read, and do your makeup and read, and sometimes even walk and read (although you didn’t think to try that on the way into the office this morning! Dang it! Four lost minutes of reading time!), but you certainly can’t read and write. And so, Alaska must wait.

But only for three hours and nine minutes.

It’s the rat age

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Ways that I am reminded I’m not the typical sports talk radio listener, part one:

This morning I caught the tail end of a debate over who is the hottest animated character. (Ariel from The Little Mermaid? Daphne from Scooby Doo? Jessica Rabbit?) This is not why I listen to sports talk radio.

(And for the record, the favorite among my friends and I was always Dmitri from Anastasia.)

Well, the city comes to greet me with her secrets all lit up

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Sometimes I walk through life with these cheerful thoughts circulating in my head. I’m so glad I work downtown, I’ll think. It’s great to be around people who aren’t like me, who pull me outside of my safe suburban existence.

And then I realize that the homeless man ahead of me is pulling soda cans out of the trash, presumably collecting them to cash in for money.

Sometimes I need to throw my rose-colored glasses to the sidewalk and watch them shatter as I walk past.