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April 10, 2009

Today's amuse bouche of self-loathing and self-pity

By the time you read this, I'll be in LA to spend Easter with my brother, using up the remaining vacation days that have to be used up by May 1.

I liked the phrase "today's amuse bouche of self-loathing and self-pity" so much I stuck it on top of a blank entry form for future use when Owl Meat (who else?) came up with it in a comment under Cynthia's March Madness.

However, I can't think of anything to say about it. Especially in the middle of April when I'm in vacation mode. I don't even remember what self-pity is.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is: discuss. Obviously Owl Meat and his various personae are forbidden to comment.    

Posted by Elizabeth Large at 3:31 PM | | Comments (58)


I have undertaken the Herculean task of paying off my credit cards. Although I have plenty of available credit, I also have racked up some good sized bills. As penance for carrying a credit card balance during a recession, I am determined to pay 'em down and off completely.

And, might I add, it was not mere trivialities that ran the card up such as feasting in fine restaurants (ah were that it was) but rather a refrigerator and the repair of my heat (as some may recall that chose to die on the 9 degree day!).

My summer trip(s) - a camping trip to Frontier Town over Memorial Day Weekend. And, probably, that's it. I would like to be able to have this cleaned up in time to re-instate my annual pilgimage to the holy land (Miami) but that does not appear likely.

As I ponder this, and as I entertain the notion, of you, EL trotting off to LA and everyone else going someplace great, I am just filled with "today's amuse bouche of self-loathing and self-pity"

If any other appliances in this house plan to die, they better wait at least a year!

The post about Cynthia's was also remarkable because that post saw Yum Porchetta's debut on the blog (and she was graciously greeted by RtSo, of dear memory).

I already used mine up with Sam. (Sorry, EL. Yes, I strayed today. I'm out-of-sorts and just not myself today. I had hoped if I would ever stray, it would be to a classy place such as Wordville...I feel ashamed and slightly disheveled).

Thank you, Dahlink for your kind words and for remembering. Yes, RtSO made me feel so welcome, as did you all. May you never regret encouraging me to shed my shyness.

Hang your head YP as you do the walk of shame back from Sessaville.

What a difference a month makes. I was hanging out on my friend's deck blogging and eating olives in the sun today, not an ort of self-loathing or self-pity in sight. Olives – smachna!

I picture a Dorito binge as the precursor to an amuse bouche of self-loathing and self-pity.

I can't believe Owlie hasn't chimed in yet.

Lissa, that was then, this is now. Spring has sprung. Life is good. Rumpshaker anyone? (NSFW unless your boss is down with gettin' some zoom zoom in your boom boom. You never know.

I can't believe Owlie hasn't chimed in yet.

I was told not to.

Plus I'm busy and happy. I think some people prefer me miserable.

I was told not to.

That was why I was shocked you weren't the first 5 respondents .

I'll give it a shot. I'm working all weekend, except for a quick break for easter bruch, where it turns out we are having ham after all for once, but now my vegetarian brother is already throwing a fit about it, and during our discussions on the subject I have been forced to conceal my absolute delight at the thought of ham on Sunday.

While I have been working, I think I got dumped by my SO on facebook. Though I deserved it to a large degree.

And I had to have salad for dinner, for lack of any protein in the house, and it was ridiculously unsatisfying, particularly because my fridge keeps freezing my lettuce, which makes it nearly inedible. Though I probably should be eating just salad anyway. So I don't look like a fat cow when I go on vacation in June, and also because it seems I need to start looking for a new SO too.

My only hope at the moment is that EL will be posting comments extra late tonight during her vacation since she is 3 hours behind on the west coast, thus making my sad pathetic evening a little more interesting.

Frozen lettuce is a horrible thing, good only for compost, Mary.

Olives are icky. Once (yes, thank sweet jesus, only once) I was almost overcome with olive fumes emitted by a bowl of Tapabar olives. The smell was that stong. Even from pretty far away. I still have PTSD from that. Supergack.

Mary, you poor dear. You need some bourbon. And some ribs and cornbread. And some pistachios.

And hang in there. Ham is only a day away.

I am having a bout of self-pity about Easter.
A: It is the first holiday without my
B. I have to go to work at 5pm
C. My hubby has to work at 7pm
C. My son has to work at 5pm.
(My daughter will probably love having the house to herself).

We are having a small meal instead of the major cooking that I like to do, since we have to work.

Lissa, really good point. In the past, Bucky's been banned, so have I. I took it as a challenge. Bucky's got better genes, so he demurred, at least for a while. But OMG? Silenced by what was clearly a dare?

Mary, Mary--I am sure he is unworthy.

Is the amuse-bouche of self pity and self-loathing prior to going down to the garden to eat worms?

Yesterday, for me, it was the prelude to a lunch of potato chips.

I've had a cold since Tuesday. In the mornings I feel best, and have been lulled into going to work a couple days, only to leave early as I become exhausted and feverish later in the day. I've been reading a lot, because I can do that lying down. Yesterday, I'd finished my books, and headed off the to library in the morning when I was at my peak. I got pulled over. When tags were put on my car, over a year ago, the one with the stickers got put on the front. I got off with a warning, but when I arrived at the library, it was closed for Good Friday. I went to Giant and got the potato chips and a book from the bargain bin.

Cosmos Girl, my condolences on your mother. The first few years of holidays after such a loss can be very rough.

I take working a holiday as an excuse for a blowout of a meal on another day. Preferably afterwards, so I can take advantage of post-holiday sales at the grocery store.

Mary, no one deserves to be dumped via FaceBook. You are better off without that person. Bourbon Girl's advice is spot-on. I would add dark chocolate to the mix.

Mmk, I ate potato chips for dinner, slogged through a pile of trashy magazines, and wallowed in my depression all evening. I've learned my lesson about visiting Sessaville.

Cosmos Girl, I am sorry about your mom, too. It will get easier as the years go by. I hope your memories of her will make you smile and bring you peace.

Woke, involuntarily, at 6:30. Listened to the cold rain. Roused myself and dressed. Drove all over Baltimore, in the rain, to get provisions for the Easter dinner (N.B. Never venture into Whole Foods on Holy Saturday.) Lunch was a couple of slices of cheese and a couple of pieces of matzo. Completed the multiple loads of laundry J.P. brought home for the weekend, AND the ironing, then started on ours. Uncompleted and overdue tasks will pass unenumerated.

HOWEVER, in another two or three hours, when the sun has gone down, I will light a coal from the first fire, let the rector spoon frankincense into the thurible, and, trailing clouds of aromatic smoke, lead the congregation into the Great Vigil of Easter; and it will be splendid.

A few years ago I saw a plaque, meant for younger girls than yourself but universally applicable, which said:

"No boy is worth crying over and the one who is won't make you cry."

I, too, had my share of disappointments before I met my Darling Wife, now of over thirty-five years.

Well, I just ventured out to Eddies and Petit Louis to get provisions for Mr. Jefferson's (the dog) birthday dinner. My wife has started a tradition, at my expense, whereby each year we get foie gras and some fancy cheeses to celebrate the adoption date of our dog. And yes, the dog gets to sample the gourmet treats.

One day in the future, when I'm sitting around trying to figure out how our nation was conquered by the Chinese, or the Russians, or the space aliens, I will look back to this decadence and have my answer.

RoCK - does the dog actually respond to Mr. Jefferson? I read that dogs need two-syllable names. Reminds me of that commercial where the guy comes home and calls his dog, "Mister barky von-schnauzer!" "Mister barky von-schnauzer!"

JMc - how very cool. As a recovering catholic, don't have very many pleasant thoughts about the church, but the incense is definitely one of them, plus the music and the good people (oh, and the donuts and pancakes after mass on Sundays).

Frozen lettuce is a horrible thing, good only for compost, Mary.

Why not just feed it at your Easter brunch to that vegetarian brother who's throwing a fit about your Easter ham?

I read that dogs need two-syllable names.

According to Yahoo! Answers (which is where I go for information now that Professor McIntyre has documented Wikipedia's shortcomings) not only should dog names be two syllables, the second syllable should be end with a long vowel sound, so it can be dragged out when speaking it.

(Example: "Fluff-eeeeeee", not "Spot".)

This is because dogs aren't as smart as everyone thinks and when they respond to the calling of their name, they are responding to the inflection in the caller's voice as much as the word itself.

I'm almost positive I read somewhere that this is also why Billy Ray Cyrus named his daughter "Miley".

hmpstd -- you gave me a great laugh with which to start Easter morning. I'm sure there are many like Mary who would like to resort to your solution.

Bucky -- I will be sharing your insight with my sister. Entering her daughter's room is like a visit to The Sacred Grotto of Hannah Montana.

awww. Bucky! As I told my partner yesterday, she's a positive role model for girls and she's a trillionaire.

however, her father did do that stupid "Achey Brakey Heart"!

RoCK, I think Mr. Jefferson is a great name. And, I hope he enjoys his birthday decadence!

Mary, I have to agree with RiE and YP, someone who breaks up with you on Facebook isn't worthy of you.

Cosmo Girls, I know how you feel. My mom passed 13 years ago this July but around Passover she began her final illness so that always hits me a little, and her birthday was Christmas Eve so I always get a twinge then too. It does get easier over the years but you'll never forget.

Usually the dog is called Jeffy. It is on formal occassions, such as State Dinners, dog birthday parties, bar mitzvahs, etc... that he goes by Mr. Jefferson.

Here is his photo

Awww...he's a cutey, RoCK. More shelter dogs should get foie.

I'm not big on foie for man or beast, but agree that a dog without teeth needs special accommodation!

Thank you for that comment, Bucky. I'm now cleaning coffee spew off my monitor and keyboard.

RoCK, please give a hug and a kiss to Mr. Jefferson from me in honor of his birthday. I'm sure the love and caring you and your wife shower on him has helped him forget what he suffered in the past.

To be clear, I didn't intend to mock Miley Cyrus. I was mocking her dad, whose song, "Achy Breaky Heart" occupied the top position in my list of worst songs ever recorded, right up to the point Trace Adkins released "Honky Tonk Badonk-a-donk".

Bucky? Will you please stop mentioning a certain horrible CW song that is trying to metastasize in my head now?

Thank you.

I'm almost positive I read somewhere that this is also why Billy Ray Cyrus named his daughter "Miley".

Is that why your parents named you Bucky? 8>)

And really dude like that's not even her birth name anyway which as everybody knows is Destiny Hope, duuuhhhhhhhh!!! Miley was a nickname, short for "Smiley" because of her super-awesome giga-watt smile. Don't mess with Miley!

Today's amuse bouche of self-loathing and self-pity

I'm not sure that I like my misery being franchised.

Bucky, you made that last one up, didn't you?

Owlie clears up the confusion about Miley Cyrus. Wow...that's sort of counter-intuitive to me. Would everyone else have predicted that?

Sometimes I think Owlie is the only blogger we ever need. (I had no idea that her real name was Destiny Hope.)

Bucky isn't my real's Robert, remember?

And, Dahlink, I wish I had made that last one up. But nooooo...

I forgot you're a Robert too Bucky. Wow, I know of another prominent blogger whose real name is Robert also. This must be the most Robert-centric blog ever.

Destiny Hope is nearly as bad as Chastity. It is just hard to turn out good with that kind of name.

Honky Tonk Badonk-a-Donk?

Please Lord, don't let me hear that tune down here!

Owl's comments are always a great read, but everyone's contributions here are what makes this The Only Blog You'll Ever Need.

I believe RtSO made Bucky an auxiliary member of the League of Roberts, back when he was briefly Robert from TBRS. We were trying to recruit Roberts to offset the onslaught of Girls.

Maybe Owl should join him?

Bucky, remember somebody recently said not to give first prize (worst song). I've tried to no avail to credit the right person but the stupid search engine on this blog doesn't work very well. I guessing it was maybe RoCK?

Point to Lissa, with bonus points to Owl Meat Gravy 2--Amuse your bouche, indeed!

You gotta read more Tiger Beat Buckmonster

PCB Rob - onslaught?!

Don't really you mean something along the lines of a rainbow.... or cascading waterfall... or boon boom.... ?

A rainbow? That's just God's colorful way of frowning at you

Bourbon Girl,

Yes, wrong choice of words. I should have said a bloom boom, as in "an explosion of blooming flowers".

Arrrgh. All this flowery rainbow talk has brought back The Partridge Family singing "C'Mon Get Happy" in my brain. Make it go away. Please.

RiE quick - replace it with The rain the park and other things by the Cowsills! (I love the flower girl)!

Much better song by the authentic family rock group!

Someone left the cake out in the rain...

...and I don't think that I can take it, 'cause it took so long to bake it, and I'll never have that recipe again...oh nooooo...(dogs begin howling)

I read that dogs need two-syllable names.

Jake doesn't seem troubled by his lacking syllable.

My sister's dog, Biggs, seems to answer to his name too. But my sister spoils that dog something fierce. She swears the dog can understand everything she says.

I think the dog just waits for the treats.

Mary, that was not an SO. That was pond scum.

Owlie clears up the confusion about Miley Cyrus

I'd have sworn he didn't know who she is.

Oh Eve! My brain has the greatest collection of pop culture garbage. I can't help it. I'm afraid that one day I will not know how to tie my shoes but I will know the likes and dislikes of all the Jonas brothers, Elvis Crespo, everyone on Gossip Girl and Ruth Bader Ginsberg (no filter). Did you know that today is Hugh Jackman's birthday? He's 54 years young.

Uh, Elvis Crespo?

Elvis Crespo. Suavemente. Used to be with Grupo Mania. Adorable.

Who isn't a huge fan of Ruth Bader Ginsberg?

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About this blog
Richard Gorelick was appointed The Baltimore Sun's restaurant critic in September 2010. Before joining the paper staff fulltime, he contributed freelance criticism and features articles about food to area and regional publications. Along the way, he dispatched for short-distance trucking companies, shilled for cultural non-profits, and assisted in cognitive neurology research – never the subject, always the control.

He takes restaurants seriously but not himself, and his favorite restaurant is the one you love, too.

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