palace of winds

I swear I was nearly ready to take pictures of my kitchen (it’s the most completed room in my apartment, partly out of necessity since it’s so small, and partly because it’s the space I’ve had the most help with), but my dad came over this afternoon and taught me the proper technique for finishing raw wood with polyurethane. So now the cart’s sitting in the middle of my living room drying, and in the morning I will swap it for the other kitchen shelving, which also wants finishing. When that’s done I have an entire overhaul of my tupperware storage situation planned. And then pictures, but only that room. Everything else is still all disorder.

Jo and her lovely friend Kristin and I went to see Brokeback Mountain Friday night, then went for hot drinks (I always want to call it ‘coffee’ but I don’t actually drink coffee so it seems odd). It was exactly the sort of evening I needed after a very, very long week at work. The closest coffee shop was the Starbucks in Calhoun Square, and while we were there I saw lots of very enticing sale signs in the windows of Kitchen Corner. So yesterday morning I went back there, just to have a quick look. A very quick look. (I even went for a few things from the market beforehand so they’d be sitting in my car and keep me from losing the entire morning shopping.)

I came out with two Wusthof Trident Grand Prix knives. As knives go, they’re — you know, I don’t know cars well enough to make a car metaphor here, actually. They’re arguably the best knives, though, in the whole world. Wusthof and Henckel’s, and at that level it’s a matter of individual taste for the balance and handle shape. I’m deliriously, hopelessly geekily happy about the knives. And pretty sad I don’t really have anything to cut with them right now. There’s a mountain of leftovers in the fridge from the two times I’ve cooked so far, plus things like cottage cheese and yogurt that I need to use this week, and I have heaps of potatoes in the cupboard (ooo, I can cut potatoes!). Anyhow, I haven’t got any meat right now and probably won’t be getting some for a while.

I’m currently a little put off raw meat. I saw this very interesting-looking advertising truck caught in rushhour traffic on — Thursday? Friday? Anyhow, I made the mistake of going to the website it was advertising, and now I feel deeply guilty when I think about raw packaged meat or milk. Though I had no trouble eating chicken fajitas at Chili’s tonight, and feel no qualms about the cottage cheese or yogurt, go figure. Honestly I think if I tried to become a vegetarian I would forget and accidentally eat all sorts of animal products. I’m hoping to sleep the memory off tonight, even as guilty as I feel about that too.

I’ve noticed a lot of things are like that, though. You get a bit of a pang about them but do them anyway, and often quite happily.

I have, for instance, decided that because it’s so unrealistic in other ways, it’s perfectly all right for me to moon over him even if he’s far too old for me. Which I have been happily and helplessly doing at irregular intervals for the past few days. I’m not normally big with the mooning; it’s unusual and I’m not sure what exactly to do with it. So I am bewildered and happy and expecting nothing, and it’s all a lovely place to be right now. I like it. And, well, if he does come back into town next month I will very much like that too.

So. I haven’t yet put together the apartment photo-tour. The only other recent thing I have (that doesn’t involve too much nudity to post) is this. Poor appeasement, I know: