a prompt for a twofer

You will groan at that play on words when you've finished reading this post. It's a really bad play on words, but I actually wrote most of this post last night and it was the best I could come up with at midnight.

And so anyway, I had two full on bentos today: one for lunch, one for dinner. "But why do you have a bento for dinner?" you might ask. Because tonight, my dear chickadees, was the first night of Prompt, the 10 week writing workshop run by Write Around Portland. It was my main birthday really-for-reals present from Sal. (I know, I was super extra spoiled this year.) It was also the reason I'm only now getting this post posted.

With the exception of a week-long writing camp when I was 15(?), I have never participated in a writing workshop-ish thing before. I am tremendously excited and I have no idea what to expect. You should come read about it over on my writing blog.

It's a brown bag event, hence the reason for a dinner bento. It's held at Powell's, which is kind of the best place in the world, I think we can all agree. It is also something like Disneyland for writers, so that is a thing.

lunch, Ms. Bento:

• The Halls' Patented Cold Weather Soup, concocted from a roast (chuck roast, in this case) and a bunch of whatever-vegetables-we-have-in-the-crisper-and-need-to-use-up (this go-round: potatoes, carrots, onions, Swiss chard) thrown together in a crockpot -- with one or more of the following: tomato sauce, beef/chicken/vegetable broth, tomato paste -- and left alone for eight hours
• sourdough bread
• half of a Rancho Royale apple
• plain yogurt with fresh (frozen) blueberries*

dinner, Paris slimline:

• spicy meatballs
• steamed broccoli as gap filler
• mandarin halves, Rancho Royale apple slices, and fresh blueberries*, with a wee cup of yogurt covered raisins

*From our family berry picking adventure in August, which I just realized I forgot to post about. To celebrate Sister's and the Fabulous Miss M's birthdays, we spent the day at a U-Pick farm on Sauvie Island, where we proceeded to pick a buttload of blueberries and marionberries. And then had berry pancakes for breakfast the next morning. And berry-everything for several days afterward. And froze the remaining three quarters of a buttload and packaged them in handy vacuum-sealed portions.

Only one other person in the group brought their dinner, so I felt rather conspicuous eating mine in front of everyone. As I opened my box, one of the other people in the group said, "That is the cutest lunch box I have ever seen." Remarkably, my head did not burst into flames from being the (very brief) center of attention. It says something about how much I've changed that I forged ahead and ate it anyway rather than stuff it into my bag and go hungry until later lest I call any undue attention to myself. Usually whilst admiring the person who forged on ahead and ate her lunch/dinner seemingly without embarrassment. Perhaps there was another person sitting there thinking that thing I used to think, and maybe she'll bring her dinner next time.

short and sweet

Keeping things short, since yesterday's was such a long post....

lunch, Paris slimline:

• spicy meatballs with broccoli as gap filler
• mandarine halves
• Fuji apple slices
• carrot sticks and a Babybel cheese

and the anchorperson on tv goes la de da de da de diddy diddy da

the opening act for Saturday's concert, a group called Mountain Man; they were absolutely phenomenal

(Yes, that is the opening line of the chorus of "16 Military Wives" and yes, it will be relevant later.)

I have the worst headache this morning. I think my brain is melting from all the fabulousness of the weekend. Totally worth it.

Friday, Sister and I met at my office for a Girls' Night. My office is not-quite-halfway, and its proximity to various restaurants and shops makes it a good meeting point for these evenings. I showed her around my office, then took her to George's Giant Hamburger, my stomping grounds for workday lunches with Kurt, ProcrastiGirl, and K back in the day. ProcrastiGirl and I still make the occasional pilgrimage, but it's just not the same since Kurt moved away.

Anyway, I was excited to introduce Sister to the George's love, which she duly appreciated. Unlike Sal, who was unimpressed the one time I took him there. Sister and I determined that he is clearly cracked in the head.

We walked it off by browsing through Michael's, doing our best to quell the art supply wants despite the enticing discounts and generally solving the problems of the world while we were at it. As one does. Then it was a nightcap of sorts with a trip to Peachwave for a frozen yogurt toppings bar bonanza, where we decided that pomegranate frozen yogurt and chocolate sauce aren't the best combination, but pretty much everything else is. We lost track of time talking and laughing and crying (in a good way) and finally said our goodbyes well past her usual bed time.

Sal spent Saturday at the Expo Center judging desserts for a high school cooking competition so I spent my day mostly in the studio making a grand mess with every art supply I own while I waited for Sal to get home and then for The Decemberists concert later that night.

And you guys. YOU GUYS. Okay, I'm biased, I admit. I love them utterly, it's true. And I have seen them in concert repeatedly, including not even six months ago when they played MusicFest NW. And every time, they are A.MAZ.ING. So I am predisposed to swoon over them, I can admit it.

"Down By the Water", from their latest albumHowever. Saturday's concert was, hands down, my favorite of any time I've seen them. We had seats in the balcony and were even closer than we were at Pioneer Courthouse Square. The Schnitz is a great venue anyway, and showcased them perfectly. It was a sold out show, of course, and they have such a diverse and dedicated fanbase that the energy is electric and they feed off that well. They played most of the "The King Is Dead" (which I got for my birthday from Sally), as well as a nice selection from the rest of their discography (set list at the end of this post).

"The Mariner's Revenge". Live. O. M. G.But the best part? OMG YOU GUYS THE BEST PART. The encore. Okay, so they made us really wait for the encore, like I thought people might start rioting, the cheering and chanting was so loud. And then finally Colin comes out just by himself and does a sweet acoustic rendition of "Red Right Ankle", and Jenny popped out just long enough to do the keyboard bit. And then he sort of left the stage and the lights went down like that was all they were going to do. AND THEN. AND THEN. They all came out, and they're all clustered right there in the front of the stage instead of taking positions at the keyboard and drum kit and everything, and Colin says that this next song requires a bit of participation (which we'd already done on other songs), and I turned to Sal and squealed, "OMG MARINER'S REVENGE" and then Colin said, "You'll need to sound like you've been eaten by a whale" AND THE CROWD WENT COMPLETELY APESHIT.

They put that song on hiatus for live shows sometime during the tour for The Crane Wife, and Sal and I were starting to despair that we'd ever get to see it live. AND THEN WE DID AND IT WAS OUTRAGEOUSLY FABULOUS AND OMG I MIGHT HAVE DIED REPEATEDLY FROM JOY. Greatest concert experience ever*, Y/Y? IN CONCLUSION THE DECEMBERISTS HAVE MY UNDYING DEVOTION FOREVER AND EVER AMEN.

*WITH ONE GLARING EXCEPTION. And seriously, this is a lesson on "What Not To Do At A Concert Lest the Person Behind You Have A Smartphone And A Website". There was this woman sitting in front of me, you see. Now, you should understand that there's some sort of law of the Universe that because I am short, I am forever doomed at any venue -- whether it's a concert, a movie, a play, whatever -- to be seated or stand behind the tall person, or the kid who stands in the seat, or the moron who doesn't take off their hat, or the chick/dude who has teased their hair ten feet above their head. Sal and I will usually switch seats, although even this doesn't always solve the problem -- the person will move, too, or all of a sudden the person sitting next to them will decide to kneel in their seat or some other sort of fuckery.

Anyway, the woman sitting in front of me was a little taller than average but not a lot, and since the balcony is stadium seating, it shouldn't have presented a problem. Shouldn't have. However. This woman was apparently desperate to participate in the concert and demonstrate just how truly into it she was because she kept leaning forward in her seat, thus screwing up the entire eyeline/angle purpose of stadium seating, AND, rocking spasmodically left to right for Every. Fucking. Song. so I couldn't even just lean to one side to see around her. Her companions seemed to be mildly horrified by her behavior and her husband appeared to ask her to settle down repeatedly, but she was all, "I'm in the groooove."

I persevered, however, and managed to enjoy the show despite these perturbances. Not content to somewhat detract from the concert experience for everyone around her, though, she spent the second half of the show intermittently raising her freakishly long tentacle arms above her head and clapping OUT OF TIME with the music in a motion that spanned the chair widths on either side of her. Still, I managed not to rip her tentacle arms off and beat her with them.

my view of the stage when Tentacle Arms stood up for the first half of "16 Military Wives"And then. The first cords of "16 Military Wives" started up and she...stood up and dancing like a brain damaged jellyfish. She is clearly blocking my view and is the only person in our entire section standing up**, and the entire time, I'm wondering to myself why she isn't bleeding to death from the daggers I have stared into her back.

**I love dancing at a concert as much as anyone, but when it's a seated venue, you expect that you're going to spend at least part of the concert with your butt in the seat. Sure, you'll be rocking out, but unless most of the crowd stands up, you do your rocking out WITH YOUR BUTT IN THE SEAT.

She did finally get the hint that the rest of the section (or balcony or crowd, for that matter) wasn't going to take her lead and she sat down. But there was a moment, right when they were getting going on "Mariner's Revenge", when she acted like she was going to stand up again and I said, "Stay down". I don't think she heard me, but I was ready to pitch a hissy if she made any motion to stand up. Because if she had in any way blocked my view of the stage during the song I've been waiting literally years to see live? Oh yes, there would have been a throwdown. Thankfully, she kept her inconsiderate ass in her seat and her tentacle arms mostly in check and no one had to die.

lunch, black strawberries

• panko-breaded chicken breast, steamed broccoli, carrot sticks
• Bosc pear, with dried cherries and cashews as gap fillers
• yogurt-covered raisins

Set list:

• California One / Youth and Beauty Brigade
• Calamity Song
• Rox in the Box
• Los Angeles, I'm Yours
• The Crane Wife 3
• The Sporting Life (with a bit of "This Charming Man" by The Smiths, which I had to look up because I couldn't remember where it was from)
• January Hymn
• Won't Want for Love (Margaret in the Taiga)
• The Rake's Song
• Don't Carry It All
• Down By The Water
• Rise to Me
• 16 Military Wives (with an audience participation bit from "Black Water" by the Doobie Brothers)
• This Is Why We Fight

1st Encore:

• Red Right Ankle (acoustic with Colin Meloy and Jenny Conlee for the keyboard bit)
• The Mariner's Revenge Song

2nd Encore:

• June Hymn

wiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

Community + Firefly shoutout = DED FROM AWESOMENESS

In other news, Community and Parks & Recreation fills my shrunken grinchy heart with glee and gladness, god bless us every one.

and then he made me a cake

@ Powell'sOh my, what a terrific day! Brunch at Gravy, a trip to SCRAP, then downtown where Sal had reserved us a room at the Ace Hotel. Which is pretty much the kind of hotel we would have if we were hipper and cooler than we are. Seriously, what can you say about a place that has a vintage photo booth in the lobby, old payroll ledgers decoupaged in the bathroom, and an illustration from a sign language instruction book painted above the bed, except that it is indisputably awesome?

The hotel's location is perfect. It's a block from Powell's, across the street from the Living Room Theater, next door to Kenny & Zuke's, and within a block or two of several great shops and restaurants. It also has an on-location Stumptown Coffee (Sal may have bowed in deference) and the hotel restaurant is Clyde Common, which apparently makes the usual best-of lists. (I didn't know -- when I asked Sal what kind of restaurant it was, he said, "You know, basically a run-of-the-mill Pacific Northwest place." Why would we want to go to a run-of-the-mill place? "Oh, it's a good place. It's won awards." Well that's hardly run-of-the-mill if it's won awards. "All right then, Miss Pedantic. 'Typical' would've been the better word. Yeesh.")

A downpour started just as we headed out for Powell's, so happy birthday to me from the weather gods. They sure know how I love a good rain. We managed not to spend our entire evening browsing the bookshelves, and even more remarkably, came out with only one bag full to bursting. We've learned restraint in our old age.

The wait at Clyde Common was far too long so we opted for Kenny & Zuke's, instead. I'm glad it worked out that way because we had a really great meal in a comfortable atmosphere. Sal had a Reuben, since he will always opt for one if it's on the menu, and I had the best damn burger I've had in a long time. Plus, homemade garlic dill pickles!

Afterward, we walked up a few blocks to Cacao, a speciality chocolate shop, for a wee cup of drinking chocolate. Not hot chocolate. Drinking chocolate. I mentioned on Tumblr last night that I thought I knew what chocolate was, but oh, how very wrong I was. Pure chocolate in a custom blend -- mine was a blend of two different dark chocolates and a milk chocolate with a dash of cinnamon -- served warm and creamy, rich but not too rich, nor too sweet, just perfect.

Which is basically the description of my entire special day. Just perfect.

chocolate chiffon cake with pastry creme between the layers and Italian buttercream icingAnd then he made me a cake.

and it's lincoln's birthday, too

I took today and Monday off as a little gift to myself for my birthday. It's not a milestone birthday or anything, but it has slowly morphed into an extended extravaganza-ish thing.

It started yesterday, actually, when ProcrastiGirl and my assistant treated me to lunch at La Provence. It was delightful! The meal was delicious, ProcrastiGirl had her first Monte Cristo, and instead of a cupcake at the end, they had a wonderful fruit tart brought out with a candle to blow out. And because they like me, did not sing to me. Bless.

Today included a facial and massage, my gift to me, the arrival of two packages, one from Cat, the other from The Albino. And a haircut, which made it an Inadvertent Day of Beauty. I'll be spending the rest of the evening playing in the studio in between snuggling on the couch with the kitties and watching S2 of Parks and Recreation (OMG CAT I STILL LOVE YOU FOREVER THIS SHOW IS OUR TRUTHHHHHHHHH).

Tomorrow, the actual official day, will be spent with Sally. He has plans, but they're mostly a surprise. I know that the day starts out with breakfast at Gravy and includes an overnight stay at a downtown hotel, so it will be a pretty great day all around. Gotta love that guy for being such a thoughty hubby.

Feeling downright spoiled this year, as a matter of fact, since a joint birthday/mutual-Valentine gift is tickets for The Decemberists concert next weekend, and my gift from him was enrollment in Write Around Portland's 10 week "Prompt" writing workshop. AND, we'll be spending part of Sunday with Sister and the Fabulous Miss M for park picnic.

See what I mean? Seriously spoiled.

brown baggin' it with bento

So today was spent at the work retreat I mentioned yesterday. I took my usual pics but didn't have a chance to post, hence the evening post instead.

From 7:30 AM to 5 PM, I was sequestered in a hotel meeting room near my office with the other four executives of my company while we hashed out some big policy, procedural, and structure decisions. Perhaps not anyone's idea of an exciting way to spend a day, but it was a productive work session and we met all of our goals for the day. Well worth the time.

It's a good thing we like and respect each other and get along well, because wow, was it ever an intense day. I'm completely wiped out. And very thankful I packed a heartier breakfast than I normally would with a bigger box for lunch*. I needed the brain fuel and I have no energy to make much of anything for dinner tonight, so I'm glad to not even be hungry.

breakfast, pink natural lunch:

• half of a bagel, with a thin spread of cream cheese and pomegranate jam
• molded egg
• Pink Lady apple chunk
• kiwi slices

lunch, blue bunny & moons:

• sushi (sushi rice, broccolette stalks, and carrots in nori)
• parmesan breaded chicken breast
• steamed broccolette, and carrot stars for garnish (with more carrot under the broccolette and chicken)
• kiwi slices and pineapple chunks
• for an afternoon snack: yogurt covered raisins and dried cherries with orange dark chocolate as a divider

*The retreat included lunch brought up from the hotel restaurant so I didn't actually have to bring my own. The hotel is a nice enough one with a pretty standard suburban hotel restaurant. Decent food with a fair selection of items (though most made from packaged and processed ingredients, unfortunately). But after the not-so-great reaction I had after the last working lunch, I just decided it would be easier to bring my own for today's thing. If we were all going to break and eat in the restaurant, that would be one thing; it certainly wouldn't kill me and those kinds of comraderie activities are more important than whatever misgivings I might have about the menu. But since we were eating in the room where we were working, it was a no brainer.

insert clever title here

this has nothing to do with today's post, I was just fondly remembering our trip to the tulip festival awhile back with The Albino and Mr. T.It's a busy week ahead, including a Wednesday-Work-From-Home-Day in the office instead. I actually have a presentation that morning (hence the reason I have to go to the office) as part of an office-wide meeting. Tomorrow is an off-site executive work retreat, and I took next Friday and Monday off. In other words, some added disruption to my already cracktastic schedule. I'd say that the change in routine keeps things interesting, but I don't actually have a routine so it's quite interesting enough as it is. At least "boring" isn't a word that in any way applies to my job.

We spent the weekend generally avoiding responsibility and opting instead to do things we wanted to do. I spent most of my time in the studio, working on revisions and later, doing some collage work, while Sal bottled his latest batch of beer and started a second batch of sauerkraut. Oh, it's a fermenting frenzy over here at Hall House. I know he's a qualified chef and everything, but there are days when I suspect he's just randomly sticking stuff in a jar to see what happens.

Now that the studio is finished (I know, I still need to get those pictures up), we're ready to get the attic eave closet doors done. Finally! And in fact the only reason they're getting done is because we won't be doing them, but rather, hiring someone to do them. Otherwise, we'd both be drawing Social Security before they'd get done. We got a personal recommend for a local carpenter who specializes in cabinetry. We've given him some leeway on the design so I'm excited to see how they turn out.

lunch, Ms. Bento:

• Sal's Whatever's In The Fridge Soup -- chicken, Swiss chard, potatoes, carrots, onion, golden chiogga beets, celery, garlic, mushroom broth, oregano, thyme
• homemade ciabata and a Babybel cheese
• pineapple with pomegranate seeds as gap fillers
• cashews, dried cherries, and yogurt covered raisins

it's the simple things

In talking to Cat last night, we were discussing cake, and the craving thereof. (Cat, if you didn't know, is an amazing cook and baker, and her cakes are widely requested by anyone who's been lucky enough to enjoy a bite of one.) We talked about how even though we love the most fancy and deliciously concocted cakes (or any pastries, really), sometimes, the simplest desserts are the only thing that will satiate that craving.

She mentioned yellow cake with chocolate frosting and I might have pierced her ear drum when I squealed into the phone, "OMGMETOOTHATISMYFAVORITECOMBINATION". Seriously. when my birthday rolled around every year and I got to pick what cake I wanted for my day, it was always a yellow cake with a chocolate frosting that my mom made on the stove -- she poured it on while still kind of warm so it was almost like a glaze, and then when it cooled, it had a kind of hard shell.

And so now I've had that damn cake in my brain all day and am going to have to make it this weekend. This is not the biggest tragedy ever.

lunch, deli club:

• wraps -- cream cheese, herb roasted turkey breast, and pickle in a sun dried tomato tortilla
• molded egg with peas as gap fillers
• unpeeled satsuma with yogurt covered raisins as gap fillers