Ahem. Knock, Knock. Is Anyone Still There?

By fabulista | Published: August 7, 2011

Holy shit.

Okay, I understand that cursing is probably not the most graceful way to jump back into a blog but seriously people, holy shit. Today when I tentatively typed in my url to check on my little blog here there was a part of me that believed it had been, oh, 3 or 4 months since I last posted (obviously, this part of me lives in a world where unicorns drop us off on mountains of sundaes, which we ski down landing in lakes of calorie-free fudge sauce; a magical place where leggings actually are pants). Imagine my surprise when I realized it has been almost TWO YEARS since I last wrote here. See? I think that deserves a serious “holy shit.”

The funny thing is that with all I’ve been doing (and it’s been a doozy of a two years – moving numerous times, new jobs, new friends and a couple of big surprises I’ll share later this week) this little blog has haunted me wherever I go. And today it hit me that being scared of restarting and looking foolish is not a reasonable excuse for stopping something I genuinely enjoy. Well, that and my husband told me it was time to put up or shut up and I think we can all imagine the terror I felt at the prospect of not talking.

So, I’m back and rather than making any large pronouncements (which I realize I’m quite prone to) I’m going to say, “It’s lovely to see you all again and I look forward to many adventures ahead.”

Posted in Random Items | 6 Comments

Sick.

By fabulista | Published: November 4, 2009

I’ve been absolutely sidelined by an attack of the flu.

Never fear, though, I’m still doing all sorts of fun things – like resting my fevered face on our bathroom’s cool tiles and slamming glasses of oj followed by chasers of Theraflu. Really, there’s no end to the good times around here.

This little post has sapped all of the energy I’ve stored up over the past two days so I need to go take a 4-hour nap in order to recover. I’ll talk to you all on the other side of this nonsense.

Posted in Random Items | 5 Comments

Day 13: And, this is why we don’t have our own reality TV show.

By fabulista | Published: October 28, 2009

Please note: This happened exactly as recorded except for the places where it was necessary to modify the dialogue because 1. I couldn’t remember exactly what we said, 2. I wanted to pretend that LB reads this, and 3. I wanted to show myself in the best possible light. Other than that, a verbatim transcript follows.

LB: If you could only eat one of the following foods for the rest of your life, keeping in mind you will never again be able to eat the other ones, which would you choose? Volcanic Beef, Amici’s pizza, Indian or pork cracklin.

Me: Oh my God. WHY do you do this to me? I don’t know I have to think. Only one! This is so hard. Okay, I know I’m not going to choose Indian or pork cracklin.

LB: You’re not picking pork cracklin? But didn’t you just write a whole post on how much you love pork cracklin? I know that because I read your blog every single day. It’s the highlight of my day, I mean, life.

Me: I just think I’ll get sick of too much pork cracklin, ya know? Once a week for the rest of my life? That’s a lot.

LB: Excellent thinking. I’d just like to point out that one of the things I love best about you is your intelligence. Right behind your beauty and singing voice.

Me: Thanks. Me too. So, now we’re down to Volcanic Beef and Amici’s? I don’t know! I love them both so much! This is soooo hard. Wait, is there a way that I can alternate choices somehow? Like maybe visit one of them, only just on weekends?

LB: Kara. You need to think of this like a marriage. Only to your favorite food. You have to choose the one you like best and that’s it. No visiting. No thinking about it. You are committed.

Me: So, I would never, ever be able to eat the other one? Okay, I think I would totally get sick of Volcanic Beef so I’m choosing the pizza.

LB: Wrong. You love Volcanic Beef more than pizza.

Me: I know! You’re totally right. As soon as I said, I instantly regretted my decision! Volcanic Beef, it is! I am married to Volcanic Beef for the rest of my life.

LB: That is really good we just got that sorted.

Posted in Divine Ridiculousness, San Francisco Food, The Fun Project | 2 Comments

Day 12: There’s no accompanying photo for a good reason. Hint: Evidence.

By fabulista | Published: October 28, 2009

I am not a rule breaker for a couple of reasons.

1. I’m really bad at it. The one time I knowingly flaunted the law a couple of friends convinced me (yes, they made me do it, Mom) to jump the fence at a local community center so we could sit in the hot tub. Our luxuriating lasted about two minutes before the security guard ferreted us out (my friend’s LOUD TALKING could have had something to do with it. I warned her repeatedly she should keep her voice down but did she listen? No! It was like she just couldn’t stop having fun!) and while everyone else ran, I was somehow petrified into place. A very loyal friend stayed with me and watched with disbelief (at the depth of my cunningness, obviously) as I gave my name as “Kara Krull.” Oh, wait. You can’t see how clever I was. See, you pronounce my name “Car-uh” but the name I gave him was “Care-uh.” Fiend-ish, no? Oh, and, I added an “r’ to my last name. They will never track me down.

2. My reflexes cannot to be trusted. For example, I once slammed a car door on my hand. No, you read that right. I slammed the car door onto my own hand. Got into the car and for some reason left my right hand on the roof while I reached over with my left hand and slammed the door shut. And, I did not think to open the door. No, instead I turned to my best friend and said, with tears in my eyes, “Holy shit. My hand is stuck in the door.” She had to open the door while I sat there watching her. And I should note: the only reason I can still type today is because her car was such a genuine piece of crap that instead of breaking my hand, I bent her car door. I was like The Hulk for one brief instant…

I was going to add a third but I think that pretty much sums it up.

But, on Monday I did it. I successfully broke the law. Well, okay, not the law but Apartment Rules. Well, so they’re not written down anywhere but everyone knows you’re not supposed to do it, okay?

I rode our apartment’s luggage cart up and down our hallway (I believe “surfed the way” would be the technical term) over and over (basically until LB got tired of dragging me around, ie. was worn out by my shrieking and giggling) and I DIDN’T GET CAUGHT!

This could usher in a whole new era; sneaking into multiple movies while only paying for one, calling people to ask if their refrigerator’s running and all sorts of other untold events that are best not discussed here. If you know what I mean. WINK, WINK.

Posted in Divine Ridiculousness, Events & Activities, The Fun Project | 3 Comments

Days 10-11: I don’t care how bad it is for me! I need more pork cracklin!

By fabulista | Published: October 27, 2009

This weekend, in between shoving stuff into bags and boxes (and I know I’ve mentioned we’re moving 500 bazillion times but I have to keep bringing up because even though we’re only moving a studio apartment, I can’t believe how much stuff (ie. clothes) we have. Where did it all come from? And why aren’t my outfits a whole lot cuter?) LB and I ran around San Francisco, trying to jam as much of it into our brains and bellies as we could. It’s like Saturday morning we realized we’re moving to the mountains for a month and won’t have ready access to Volcanic Beef or bridges or Victorians or trolleys.

Or pork cracklin. Well, we might have pork cracklin. I don’t actually know if Winter Park has pork cracklin because before Saturday morning, I’d never tasted pork cracklin. Now, though, I totally understand why there is an entire Network dedicated to Food and I firmly believe pork cracklin should have its own show. I can’t say pork cracklin enough. It’s like I’m trying to resurrect those few, brief moments I had with pork craklin before it was gone. Pork cracklin, pork cracklin, pork cracklin. It’s not working.

Here’s LB’s sandwich. Notice his hand. If you had a sandwich with pork cracklin on it, you would feel possessive as well.

Here are our potatoes. They were also ridiculously good. Although they were not pork cracklin.

Here’s the truck where we bought our pork cracklin. Although it was a lot more full when we bought our pork cracklin. This is several hours later when I went back to visit.

Pork cracklin.

Our entire weekend wasn’t completely consumed by pork cracklin (officially). We also went to Mount Davidson and looked at some of the most amazing views I’ve seen of the city, we tooled around the Mission, we visited the ocean that I completely forgot we lived by (LB: That makes sense that you’d forget the entire Pacific Ocean.) and took a bunch of pictures, which I’d planned on posting here until I found this website and realized my photos of San Francisco are like overcooked bacon to Caliber’s pork cracklin.

Posted in Decadence, Events & Activities, Fab Gal in the City, Lovah Boy, Random Items, The Fun Project | Tagged Caliber, ferry building farmer's market, Osha thai, pork cracklin, roliroti, San Francisco | Leave a comment