Wednesday, July 02, 2008

the butterfly effect

according to karl lagerfeld, esquire, as explained to one dr. rei, m.d.: "the butterfly effect is when a butterfly flaps it's wings in china and bill gates cries somewhere else." lol! that was one of the many pearls of wisdom and laughter that was dropped last night.

first, bwong regaled us with tales of his adventures in falconry (!) at greenbrier resort, in west virginia. btw, bwong also showed up looking like a cross between the great gatsby/james spader circa "pretty in pink" (think: white blazer, seersucker pants, collared pale blue shirt, sparkling white shoes). this inevitably lead us to make jokes about his falcon bride, in its little falcon wedding dress, with bwong feeding it cake and sending it on a mission to get bitters. "bitters, go!" *falcon screeches into the echoing air*

it rapidly digressed from there. we talked about quintessentially "cool" musicians and there was some spirited debate around that. thom yorke was broached as a possible modern quintessentially cool musician by our friend A, because of his wonky eye. my reply: "yeah but...he WORKS that wonky eye. he owns that s**t." we talked about how my worst nightmare is two things: when dr. rei spins off into one of her hip hop (read: wu-tang) reveries (which inevitably last a minimum of 2 hours, is ENTIRELY an externalized internal monologue, and tends to proceed regardless of whether people are actually paying attention or not) (in her defense, dr. rei's textbook passion for stuff is quite infectious and cute), and tam tam in montreal. i actually HATE tam tam in montreal. i hate disorganized "drum circles". we talked about how i only trust two people in this world: myself and wyclef jean. we talked about how dr. rei is coming around (slowly) on africa (the continent and its' musicians) and how sean de paul is the best non-guilty guilty pleasure ever. we talked about how the high school girl's dog was (or wasn't) doing "yoga". i contend that dogs don't do "yoga". that would be like saying, "that dog is practicing the hegelian master-slave dialectic". the high school girl and the roomie (of course!) gave me the, "well, how do you KNOW the dog isn't doing yoga?" line that people who have inappropriate relationships with god's creatures usually take. i think it's bunk. to me, that's like saying that the dog is "practicing" chemical engineering or any other human-made construct. we talked about dr. rei's belief that the kids nowadays are running rampant in the streets doing mad drugs. we basically just talked and laughed a lot in the sharing circle of honesty, which is one of my favorite ways to spend any evening. talking and laughing into the night surrounded by good food, drink, and company.

the high school girl was pleasant and very nice...but kind of humourless. or rather, possessing of a much much MUCH different frame of reference and sensibility than the company that i usually keep. i don't know what it is, but there's this thing of girls from markham district high school being humourless and very earnest. it's not the best combination. it's kind of like being stupid AND dumb. that's the worst combo ever, imo. anyway, of COURSE she brought her dog with her, which OF COURSE she rescued from a life of prositution (i think) in africa, when she was doing development work in tanzania (!). she's also...wait for it...a teacher. and she hates wal-mart. and when she found out i was a librarian, talked about how librarians are so awesome because the kids in her class just "google everything" and she has to show them about books and indexes and how you can "actually find out information in books." so basically, she's my EXACT OPPOSITE. i don't understand how people can allow themselves to be so typical and like, walking cliches. no nuance! no context! so misguided and misdirected! next you're going to give me the line that you "don't watch tv" because "tv changes your brain patterns" or something equally unfounded and inane. or that you "hate america". *rolleyesdotbarfdotgif*. she's fine, really. just easy to peg down. and i was really nice to her, i swear! i'm actually a nice person! i swear! and her and our friend B brought stuff to the 'cue, which is never expected (not for nothing do i run the "house of plenty", but always appreciated.

the dotytron and i played "no rules" tennis in the morning which worked out pretty well, but my forearm got a little sore. i love playing sports/doing activities with the dotytron. it's always a billion times more fun.

everything i've read says to smoke the meat until it hits an internal temperature of 185F. our brisket plateaued at around 158 for about FOUR HOURS. yes, FOUR HOURS. it's normal to hit a wall because the energy is being directed at breaking down the connective tissues and denaturing the protein and blah blah blah. at 6pm, the meat had climbed to 162F and had been holding at that for an hour. so i said, you know what? i'm effin' hungry! so we pulled the meat out, i wrapped it in foil, and while it was maybe not quite at the point where you could cut it with a spoon, or look at it and have it fall apart, it was still pretty effin' tender and tasty with my chipotle bbq sauce spooned over. the strawberry pie was absolute winner, but the lemon chess pie was only so-so. coleslaw went well, cornbread was a smash hit (i always use the same recipe and like a truth north-of-the-mason-dixon-er, i like my cornbread on the sweet side). i nixed the watermelon and tomato salad because i thought we had enough food and we were all stuffed.

we ended the night by shooting fireworks off at withrow park, while dr. rei cowered on the far fringes of the group, protecting her one good eye.


tonight was my free advance screening of "the wackness." full review to follow tomorrow when i have more time. i had a falafel at ghazale's for dinner. i got them to put tabbouleh in it, cuz that's how i roll.



dr. rei said...

"people who have inappropriate relationships with god's creatures"


that was a really good review of the bbq!! so many details i forgot about!!! your gatherings are the most fun.

steph said...

the best word for that girl: FORGETABLE. She was there, she wasn't unpleasant or offensive, she just was......this equals forgetable.