It’s Sunday morning and I am at home listening to Radio Nova from Paris on the ancient PC in my office. I am thinking about Christmas in Paris two years ago. These memories are stoked by two things:
One:
Work. You know that wonderful, glorious feeling you get when you walk out of work the day before you leave for a two week vacation to Europe? I just love that moment. That feeling that it’s all behind you, that you can relax, that you got everything finished. Friday afternoon was not that moment however. I am not going anywhere. I just finished working 13 days in a row. More than a few of which lasted until midnight. I had five projects all line up at the same time in a harmonic convergence of multitasking terror, drama, fire drills, and egos. I am so tired. But I think I got it all done. I have that feeling now that it is all behind me, that I can relax, that I got everything finished. I so wish I was getting on a plane. But no, I have not paid off Barcelona.
Work. You know that wonderful, glorious feeling you get when you walk out of work the day before you leave for a two week vacation to Europe? I just love that moment. That feeling that it’s all behind you, that you can relax, that you got everything finished. Friday afternoon was not that moment however. I am not going anywhere. I just finished working 13 days in a row. More than a few of which lasted until midnight. I had five projects all line up at the same time in a harmonic convergence of multitasking terror, drama, fire drills, and egos. I am so tired. But I think I got it all done. I have that feeling now that it is all behind me, that I can relax, that I got everything finished. I so wish I was getting on a plane. But no, I have not paid off Barcelona.
Two:
My mother called yesterday and asked if I was coming over on Christmas Day and what I was cooking over here on Christmas Eve. As I thought about what to cook on Christmas Eve it occurred to me to that I should just cook what I made in that time apartment in Paris two years ago. I made mark re-read my Paris blog post out loud last night. For that dinner I made these little birds:
My mother called yesterday and asked if I was coming over on Christmas Day and what I was cooking over here on Christmas Eve. As I thought about what to cook on Christmas Eve it occurred to me to that I should just cook what I made in that time apartment in Paris two years ago. I made mark re-read my Paris blog post out loud last night. For that dinner I made these little birds:
“Coquelet jaune pret a cuire” with stuffing, potatoes, and green beans and radishes in butter. Totally did not suck. I think we will have that on Christmas Eve.
So back to work. Part of the reason I am so exhausted is I had this ongoing this battle this week with the business analyst who is completely and totally unable to multitask in any way. She gets psychotically scary and mean when interrupted or asked to do more than one thing in a day. Not surprisingly she also hates schedules. We don’t see the world the same way. Plus no one can multitask better than I do. Can you put on a facial mask in the shower, put conditioner in your hair, and then masturbate while brushing your teeth with your Sonicare toothbrush at the same time? I didn’t think so.
That reminds me of the scene from “While London Burns Sammy and Rosie Get Laid” where Sammy is laying on the couch snorting coke, eating MacDonald's, wacking off, listening to Pakistani music, and watching a nature show on TV all at the same time. I could do that. Well not the coke. And not MacDonald's anymore either. I would do vodka. And spicy teriyaki.
.
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Re-reading that Paris blog post made me remember how pretty much crappy the food was in Paris. That reminds me of how amazing the food was in Barcelona. Did I write yet about the Basque tapas bars? About the pintxos?
The tapas menus that look like sushi?
The tapas.
.
.
The tapas.
The tapas.
The tapas.
Did I write about the seafood paella?
Did I write about the seafood fiduea?
The bread with tomato and oil oil?
Did I write about the ham?
Are you sure I did not write about the ham?
What about the goofy fruit drinks?
The pastries?
Did I write about the seafood?
The tuna?
The langustines and razor clams?
The mushrooms?
The olives?
The cat?
The foie gras?
I think I did already write about this amazing bouillabaisse.
And this squid.
God I want to get on a plane.
Well, at least I have something booked for March. It's number 19!
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