- Damn. I am so in love with this season of the Extras on HBO - I really enjoyed the 1st one, but THIS one has me in stitches - I got teary-eyed with laughter at the David Bowie episode last week. I adore the new premise of Andy starring in a lame "shitcom" which has probably one of stupidest punchlines ever (refer to post title). Ricky Gervais is simply a comedic genius with that uncanny ability to quit while ahead.
- Speaking of which.....watching the Extras has made me yearn for some BBC, a healthy cache of which I am already in possession of in my DVD collection. Towards this end, I decided not to continue with Grey's Anatomy, after all - I had a hard time getting sucked into season 2. Again, it's not a bad show and I am not knocking it. However, I can't really justify watching another show right now and I'd really like to dig back into my DVDs such as Ab Fab, The Office, Cold Feet, Coupling, etc.
- It's official - this pregnancy is different. My desire for Mexican food has waned to a dull thud and my cravings for Indian food have reached a fever pitch. Oh sure, with Arun I could eat Indian, but didn't really crave it ferociously like now. Anyway, the problem is - we live in Kansas City. We have some okay North Indian places, but none of them are anything to write home about - Kababesh Grille is probably the best of the bunch, but it's really Pakistani more than Indian. The issue is that I am craving South Indian - an area of cuisine in which Kansas City is severely lacking. There's a so-called South Indian place here called Ruchi that ironically, isn't so "ruchi" (ruchi=tasty in Hindi). However, NewKid demanded dosas on Friday and so I strong-armed X into going there. I wanted a mysore masala dosa so bad that I ached. We hadn't been there in ages because the service had gone downhill, but the last I had remembered, their dosas weren't so bad. Um, first off......when you walk into an Indian joint and your Indian husband is a minority, you know you're in trouble. And dear Lord, were we IN TROUBLE. Except for the carrot pickle that I greedily inhaled, the entire meal was a disaster. We left there vowing never to return. So, I've moved on - to my own fucking kitchen. X even remarked on the irony that a Kansas bred n' born white chick can make a better dosa from a fucking mix than those nitwits at Ruchi's. My rava idlis weren't half bad either. Still, doesn't food always taste so much better when someone else makes it? Sob.
- I've determined that cleaning a house in which a toddler dwells is akin to sweeping your kitchen floor with a makeup brush. Both are possible. In theory.
- And finally, here is some knitting for you. Because nothing says Delurk!! like a blogger droning about her knitting. Squee! Anyway, I have declared 2007 The Year of the Stash - I am attempting to finish half-attempted projects and to also work on the box of stash that is lurking in my hall closet. So, I finally finished Arun's baby blanket - I used the Big Bad Baby Blanket pattern from the Stitch n' Bitch book. The pros? Easy pattern, durable yarn and the dimensions came out quite large because I used a Signature yarn instead of the one the pattern called for. Arun should be able to use this blanket for awhile. The cons? A blanket is a pain in the ASS to knit. It doesn't travel well and became so heavy at the end that it didn't help my pregnancy-induced carpal tunnel syndrome. This is why the project took so long. I also finished a backpack - one of my very first attempted projects. The biggest problem with this project is that I had no use for it until recently - once I had incentive to actually seam the damned thing together and attach the cord, it was a snap. Anyway, drool away. You know you wanna.
Big Bad Baby Blanket