Tag Archives: Kathy

Happy Valentine’s Day

At Hearts A Bluhm - William & Joan Brodsky

hearts on Michigan Avenue

Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all. Patrick is still her. We’re spending the day at the Chicago Auto Show with Kathy. Then we’re going to see Robyn tonight with Nite.

Yesterday, I ate too much pork and spent most of the day in bed, wondering if “death by scrapple” is, like, a thing. Today, I’m going to eat nothing but oatmeal and fruit and vegetables and drink gallons of water.

(Just spotted Scrapple And Eggs on @Foodspotting)

scrapple at The Publican

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mild pug

And the debauchery begins....NOW by jeff.ramone

Jeff‘s birthday was earlier this week. He reserved some tables and got drink specials at Wild Pug last night. The wristbands had cute skull and crossbones. I got one though I did not drink, because I believe in being well accessorized. I should have had some water at least, as it was hot and humid and I was full of Greek food (more on that later).

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“this week, on coldwater creek…”

I woke up at 9:26 on Sunday morning. I was to meet Elisa and Kelly for brunch at Café 28 at 9:30.

Fuck.

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Ham Saturday: “The Silence of The Ham” starring St. John the Baaaa-ptist

The meaning of the acronym LATFH has been changed from “Look at this fucking hipster” to “Look at this fucking HAM”. Seriously, just look at it.

Look at this fucking ham.

Isn’t it beautiful? Okay, maybe not to you vegetarians and/or people who don’t dig on pork, so later for you. This is nine pounds of honey baked ham power, and it only cost me $30. Best. Impulse purchase. Ever.

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hearts and flowers

Place setting, The Palm Court at The Drake Hotel

Previously, I wondered why Elisa and Alissa’s plans for Valentine’s Day were so, well, low-key. Which is ridiculous on my part, as they are fairly low-key ladies. That’s part of the reason why I like them so much. Who needs fancy overpriced dinners and flowers and fireworks?

I guess I do. But that’s me, and I don’t need a boyfriend for that. I’m not saying I wouldn’t mind a boyfriend. I’m just saying that while I’m happy to be single (though it sounds like I whine about it all the time, eh?) it would be nice to know what Valentine’s Day is like with a man rather than without one.

Kathy invited me to tea at The Palm Court, a gorgeous lounge at The Drake Hotel, and I was happy to accept. I’ve been going to tea there for a very long time, so it was nice to go somewhere elegant on a beautiful day. I didn’t wear any red (not even my usual red lipstick) but I did wear my favorite hot pink coat. I thought I looked pretty adorable, as did Kathy, who sported a red cashmere sweater/shrug/shawl. We were a little more dressed up than most, a fact I became aware of acutely while we were waiting to be seated. A family with small children preceded us in the queue. “It’s his first time having tea,” the mom explained to a pair of older woman while gesturing towards her young son. “We’re culturing him!”

I thought that was pretty rich coming from a woman who let one of her daughters out of the house wearing fleece-lined Crocs.

ANYWAY.

Shaun Rajah, who is the special events manager for The Palm Court, welcomed us, gave us each a single long-stemmed red rose, and showed us to our table. Shaun is, I learned after some Googling, is the special events manager for The Palm Court. More than a maître d’, he was literally the man. Showing parties to their tables, directing them to coat check, quickly and discreetly helping the staff do their jobs all dressed in an immaculately tailored suit. So I know it’s probably his job to look like a badass but if he could manage to do that then why couldn’t the lady with the Crocs-wearing girl put her baby in some patent Mary Janes?

I know if Jacinda were reading this as I typed, she’d remind me that her own daughter has a funny habit of removing her shoes in public places, and maybe that mom decided it was easier to go with Crocs rather than fight her daughter for cuter footwear. Maybe, but that doesn’t explain why her husband turned up for tea wearing what appeared to be a nylon tracksuit jacket instead of a more formal coat.

But let me get back to the tea. Shaun informed us that Oprah’s own manicurists were on hand to provide complimentary hand massages as he showed us to our table. I got excited about this, as I haven’t had my nails done since Lisa and Eddie’s wedding. Which was in November. OMG I’m gross.

While I fantasized about my free hand treatment, Kathy and I ogled the tea selection. Our rather adorable waiter came by to take our order: a bellini for Kathy, a mimosa for me, white jasmine tea for both of us. The cocktails were the first to arrive and frankly, they were incredibly tasty. The food arrived as did our pots of tea.

The food did not stop the conversation, which covered a number of topics. Valentine’s Days past (I still rank our dinner at Frontera Grill in 2001? 2002? which served every single dish from Like Water For Chocolate as the best one ever), the Super Bowl (Kathy’s building had a viewing party for its tenants), my brother, her sister, what Kathy’s giving up for Lent (swearing!), dieting, the lady who does did Kathy’s hair, “Absolutely Fabulous”. Every so often, I’d peek over at the table where the manicurists were set up, and they always had clients. Damn. We ended up not getting our hand massages but it was totally fine when I saw two rather nerdy looking middle-aged men getting hand treatments. The looks of glee on their faces cheered me up.

After tea, we had to get Kathy’s parking validated which means we had to do just a little shopping at 900 North Michigan. Seriously — no validation without purchase! Also, the mall was offering tax-free shopping at a number of their shops. Even better. We went to J. Crew, where I bought some barrettes and a pair of cap-toe ballet flats. Kathy got this lovely blue shirt that she can wear under sweaters now and then by itself when the weather is warmer. Which helped me to remember that one of the reasons why I like Valentine’s Day so much is that in a matter of weeks (okay, more like months for Chicago) it will soon be spring.

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the week that was

Monday, March 2: Free screening of “Last House on The Left”, which was totally fucked up but tense in a good way. Elisa was my guest. I had popcorn for dinner. I need to start packing food for these things. Or at least commit to having a movie hot dog and/or pretzel for supper. Continue reading

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my awesome day with kathy

My awesome horoscope for today was:

You are often the one who starts the ball rolling and today is no exception. Your spirit of adventure is fully engaged and you are eager for new experiences — so see what kind of good trouble you can stir up!

So I did. Kathy and I tried to get brunch at Chicago’s Rosscoe’s, but there was an hour long wait. On such a fine day, I’d normally have no problems waiting but I could hear my stomach growling, so off to Wishbone we drove. Where I stuffed my face with some croissants stuffed with egg, bacon, spinach, and cream cheese. And cheese grits. Oh the cheese grits!

Afterwards — mani/pedis at Nail Spa ($27!), quick stop at Starbucks for iced tea, and then “Leatherheads”. Belated birthday fun for meeeeeeeee.

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leftovers: Hot Chocolate

So Kathy’s birthday was this week. She wanted to go to dinner at Hot Chocolate, so Adrienne and I took her out last night.

  • pre-dinner cocktails: Champagne
  • to start: spinach salad (me); green salad and potato soup (Kathy)
  • main course: hamburger with fried egg (me); lamb and krema sandwich (Adrienne); macaroni and cheese (Kathy). Note: Adrienne and I split an order of macaroni and cheese
  • dessert: doughnuts with hot fudge and homemade caramel corn (adrienne); shot of coffee and brownie (Kathy); chocolate tart with salt caramel ice cream and pretzel, Mexican chocolate over ice (me)

Notes:

  1. Hot Chocolate is always a delicious, unpretentious experience. That being said, the yuppie quotient was pretty high last night.
  2. I am beginning to like my Champagne and sparkling wines on the drier side.
  3. The hamburger should always be ordered with the fried egg. There is no other way to have it.
  4. I should have asked for a bit of Adrienne’s lamb, as she said it was delicious.
  5. The Mexican chocolate was great cold, though I missed out on the melted marshmallow. My marshmallow was intact. Delicious, still.

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421 trailer: brokeback bundok

I’m not the kind of person who’s been planning every minute of her wedding since infancy. Who keeps a scrapbook of fabric swatches and save-the-date cards, or has her colors picked out. I don’t necessarily buy into that “It’s my wedding day and I’m a princess so I’m going to with 3″ long acrylic nails” stuff. But I do like a pretty dress, and I do believe I’ve seen the dress I want to wear when I convince somebody to marry me. I don’t suppose I look anything like the impossibly lovely Rachel Weisz, but I saw the Vera Wang gown she wore to the Oscars last night and I just thought “Oh, that’s it.” Even though I tend to look not amazing in strapless dresses, I think I could pull it off. If you missed the Oscars, a pic of her dress is here.

I’m not the kind of person to have names picked out for yet-to-be-conceived offspring I may have with the yet-to-be-met boyfriend/husband/sperm donor, as I don’t plan on having kids, but should the unthinkable happen, these are names I was considering:

  • Delia (yes, after the on-line shop for tweenage girls)
  • Carmen (after the hip-hopera starring Beyonce — that or the video game “Where In The World Is Carmen San Diego?”)
  • Pablo (dude, that Radiohead album; possibly after Escobar, but naming your kid after a Colombian drug lord may not be a great idea)
  • Frances (after the country, but plural)
  • Lawrence (as in “Of Arabia”)
  • Josephine

But these are the names I like. I’m also partial to Dinah as a substitute for Delia, if only because Dinah is my favorite character in The Philadelphia Story after Uncle Willie, and I think Uncle Willie rather a poor choice for a name. Especially for a girl.

And in case you were wondering, my list of dog names is totally different:

  • Rollo
  • Larry
  • Possum

I always wonder about those yuppie types in my neighborhood who have dogs named Bailey and babies named Taylor and Madison. These names seem interchangeable, so I wonder if the parents ever get confused.

My parents and my brother Patrick are back after nearly a month in the Philippines. Patrick has yet to blog about his experiences, but he has begun posting his pictures. No photosets, but check out the February archive.

After having lunch with Kathy on Monday, I’ve come to the conclusion that there should be a list of white folks who’ve committed significant though not tragic sins against brown folk. Like Madonna would be at the top of the list for co-opting brown-tastic subcultures for the sake of keeping her relevant and interesting. Like, we love you Madonna, but it was kinda rough when you were playing like you were Indian around the time “Ray Of Light” came out.

Okay, a real flip front will be out soon-ish. Maybe as soon as I find an apartment. I have to move a month earlier than I thought I had to. Which sucks, but what can you do.

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419: cenomar


Save the date
Originally uploaded by missjasmine.

I sent away for another copy of my birth certificate last week. When I was submitting my request on the Philippine Census web site, I looked over the list of documents you can request: certificates of birth, death, marriage, and no marriage. The last one threw me: a “CENOMAR” certifies that the person for whom it is issued is not married. According to WeddingsAtWork.com:

A CENOMAR is not a requirement for marriage. It is only essential if you want to be certain that the civil status of the person you are marrying is still single and that he or she is unattached. This may be important since any marriage contracted while another one is still subsisting is considered as null and void under Article 35 (4) of the Family Code of the Philippines for being bigamous.”

I hear that. Nobody wants to hear that their mail-order bride already has a family at home. Though seriously, when I was growing up there were a couple of folks on the block who didn’t let the fact that they had spouses and children back in the PI prevent them from hooking up (even marrying) somebody (usually an American) once they got to the States. Continue reading

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