It’s early Tuesday afternoon, and I’m still in my pajamas. I’m working from home today, which isn’t really as pleasant an idea as it may sound, and am taking a break for lunch, which today consists of chicken rice soup and pita bread left over from the housewarming party on Saturday.

The housewarming went really well. We had a good crowd with friends from both near and far. Robin and Andy came up from Madison, and, in a complete surprise, Sarah and Don showed up from Chicago. Sarah’s arrival was surprsing for a couple of reasons: She hadn’t planned on coming, and, well, none of us knew Don existed. (Don may also have been old enough to have parented some of the attendees, but no one really talked about that. Well, they didn’t until after Sarah and Don left, anyway.)

I should get photos up in a day or so, but in the meantime, you can can take advantage of the fact that Jenn has posted some of her photos up on Flickr before I’ve even bothered to download mine off my camera.

Back to work. More later.

In some ways, condo living isn’t that different from apartment living. Because of some renovations going on in the neighboring unit, our kitchen has hot water but no cold water, and the guys working next door will need to get into our place tomorrow to do who the fuck knows what while we’re not there. Of course, there was no notice for this, and of course it would have to happen the day before our housewarming.

I’m also expecting all our new neighbors to noisily move in Saturday night, just because that’s how things tend to go whenever I get involved with the planning of something.

It was an incredibly busy week, followed by a very busy weekend, but still there’s not much to write about.  Lisa and I are holding a housewarming party next Saturday, the preparation for which is forcing us to take care of a few last things around the house.  We’ve also been working on tentative plans for a spring road trip…  to Nova Scotia.

Beyond that, the cat has been flipping out a lot lately.  The very fact that I bother mentioning that really shows how quiet things have been around here.

More later.

While I’ve never been fond of visits to the doctor, this morning’s visit was more annoying than most: As if being instructed to avoid milk for the time being wasn’t frustrating enough, that change in diet will likely become permanent as soon as a few tests come back. And this is to a person who has typically looked at cereal as a primary food group.

It’s difficult to express how bummed I am about this. First citrus allergies, then “elevated” cholesterol, and now this. The realm of food I’m allowed to enjoy is becoming increasingly limited.

“Monday Night Live” on MTN channel 16. I wish I had something to link to here. It’s basically a partially clothed couple on a couch, randomly kissing and massaging each other while taking crude phone calls from the Minneapolis viewing audience. “Would you like to rest your head in my robin’s nest?” WTF. “Does the hair cut off on the cheeks?” “No, it swirls in patches.” And then: “My guy has a raging boner and I’m going to blow him right here.” And finally: “How would you like a hot beef injection?”

I love Minneapolis public access, but this is even weirder than the guy preaching from the Segway.

~~~

Update: MNL is followed by The Hemp Channel.

Yesterday’s entry elicited a decidedly grade-school response, not the kind I would’ve expected. When I wrote that I went through quite a tuna phase a few years back, that was meant to be taken literally, with no euphemism intended. I hated fish growing up — maybe I was the victim of one too many bad Friday fish fries at Northeastern Wisconsin bars — and didn’t really start eating fish of my own free will until my later college years. Since then I’ve mostly gone through phases with fish. For a while I mostly liked trout and different kinds of sunfish, but not much else. Then I went through a tuna phase, and am currently in more of a salmon phase.

Really.

~~~

“Ooh, the Björk Family Tree box set.”

Lisa made a face.

“What? You have to love Bjork!”

“Björing.”

While Lisa is definitely one to celebrate Valentine’s Day, I’ve never been much one to do so, so we decided to compromise and celebrate the Saturday before it. I spent the past month trying to get her to guess where we were going for dinner, although I wasn’t too worried about her actually figuring that out, as I knew JP American Bistro was essentially non-existent on her radar screen. The restaurant is only a 15 minute stroll from our house, so it had been my intention to have us walk past all the places she thought we may be going — Lucias, Campiello, and La Bodega, among others — and then walk into some place she was completely unfamiliar with. She wasn’t feeling well, though, so we drove, and I had to relegate myself to throwing false turn signals as we passed the restaurants.

While the service was a bit odd from time to time, the food at JP American Bistro was fantastic. It was probably the best dinner either of us have had in the Twin Cities. We opened with a very tasty pizza with applewood smoked bacon, cashews, and pecorino ramano cheese. Lisa had oven-steamed salmon in a sweet soy glaze, with organic green beans and toasted nuts, which she loved. Following an unsolicited tip from a neighboring table, I tried the fish of the day, seared tuna with a pineapple and berry chutney. (I’m allergic to pineapple, but what the heck.) It was easily the best tuna I’ve ever had, and I went through quite a tuna phase a few years ago. For desert, Lisa had a molten chocolate cake with caramelized bananas and coffee ice cream. I had a caramelized banana tart with caramel sauce that vaguely reminded me of the best desert I’ve ever had, a spectacular concoction at Thalia in New York four years ago. It didn’t match up to the desert at Thalia, but the fact I’m even willing to mention it in the same sentence speaks well for the desert at JP’s.

So, uh, we were both quite happy with dinner. I still think Valentine’s Day is a corporate holiday, but if we’re going to be stuck with it, we might as well make the most of it.

Lisa and I still don’t have neighbors. Yet. Yesterday morning, three of the four doors onto the front hallway opened at the same time.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just the appraiser.”

“I’m moving the model. Who are you?”

“I live here, and I’m leaving.”

The seller waited to clear out our unit, which was the original model, until just a few days before we moved in. So, if the current move was done under the same standard of procrastination, we may have people living upstairs this weekend.

~~~

Upon review, photos of our unit are still being used in the MLS listing for our building. The remaining unit had been gutted by a previous owner and differs from the rest of the units in some significant ways, so truth in advertising it’s not.

Ack. My parent’s basement got slimed with sewage a few days ago.

I guess the only thing I can say about the game is it’s unfortunate the first half wasn’t as interesting as the second.

Also, it was appropriate the Hummer ad featured two monsters destroying a city.