I cooked. All by my grown-up self. Without a recipe, even. What oh what will I think of next?

It was a simple start. Soup. Carrot-ginger, with a vegetable-based broth. I prepped some of the veggies and made the stock last night, with the rest of the prep and the cooking (mostly sweating the veggies and blending them, if that counts as cooking) today. The results? Not bad. Not great, but not bad. It could have used a bit of cream to thicken it out. Maybe some white pepper and garlic next time. But it was edible, and I got to use a really big knife, so there will be more to come. I'm thinking potato-leek next because, really, how can you ever have enough empty starch in your diet?

Posted by at 6:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It's 1:37 AM, and I'm a-workin', thanks in no small part to a potent mix of nonfat milk, protein powder, and ice. Plus craptons of caffeine and as much water as I can drink. Liquid nutrition is much like kickboxing--it's "the future." But man, this Diet Rockstar stuff tastes like crap. Discriminating hypoglycemic night owls prefer Monster Lo-Carb.

So obviously, I'm working hard right now. No surprise, but after a day of writing, my brain can focus on anything but the task at hand. Hell. I already have half of a film noir set in a Brentwood gym written: "And then she walked in. She was only 18, with a BMI to match...." Yeah. It's one of those nights. I'm waiting for the caffeine to kick in and provide some magic perspective that will lend that special something to my factually dead-on but zing-less case study. Until then, I'm feeling a bit like a worn-out, paranoid corporate tool, much like our young pal Ender right before he uncorked a big bottle of xenocidal whupass on the Buggers. Just started reading that yesterday, after all these years. Finished it today--not exactly a tough read. But a good one, and well worth buying for yourself or your kids.

So back to the work situation. It's almost over. And I've learned a few things, courtesy of my diverse client base:

• If I ever get prostate cancer, I'm going to LLUMC for proton therapy.
• Sarbanes-Oxley compliance is everyone's business. Especially if your portion of "everyone" happens to be the Chief Executive with his head on the block if you screw up.
• KVM-over-IP can be sexy. In a not-in-the-sense-of-actually-making-me-want-to-have-sex sort of way.

Oh yeah. I bought a can of Diet Coke Plus on the way home, thinking it might be just the liquid superfood I needed to get me through the night. I'm holding it in reserve at the moment, but I'll let you know.

The buzz has arrived. Back to work. Buggers.

UPDATE: Niacin and B6 do not belong in Diet Coke. I swear I can taste the difference, and it's not good.

Posted by at 1:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

One of the last great American writers of the 20th century (and my favorite author of any sort) is dead at 84. It's a sad day. If you're too young to have read any of his work, stop reading this blog and head to the library, right now.

Posted by at 1:18 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It's 10:40 PM on a Sunday and I'm working. Waa. Cry for me, people. I mention this for a few reasons:

• The pity. I loves me some pity.
• So I have a post to assign to the "Work" category.
• Because despite this, the weekend really hasn't been so bad.

In fact, it's been pretty good. Shopping for cheap clothes at H&M, watching shitty movies about demonic children and the Apocalypse at the Arclight while drinking big plastic cups of wine, eating yet more cheese at the best brunch spot in LA County, and a bevy of other recreational activities that left me completely drained and not-at-all ready to work (why do you think I'm writing this instead?), but pretty darned content.

Other good news: With a little luck, Doc and I will be going to The Playboy Jazz Festival to see Etta James. Oh yeah--there's a San Fran trip in there, too. Possibly the old fave, The Hotel Boheme.

Now if someone will just write this piece on Sarbanes-Oxley for me, I can get back to planning my developing social life and everything will be right with the world.

Posted by at 10:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

UPDATE (04/10/2007): The mac and cheese is from Pete's Cafe and Bar. And yes. It's really that good.

So last night The Doctor and I went downtown to a little speakeasy (read: smoky, hot room with no ventilation and almost certainly a heap of fire code violations) to see Critical Brass. Good music, good times, good vibes, and the best damn mac and cheese of my life at some place called "______ Grill" on Main Street. Name pending the charge on my credit card statement. But it might become a monthly ritual for the rest of my time in LA. It was truly that good.

Sometimes it really does help to get out of the house, particularly if your tour guide is one of the kewl kids with the ins on underground hipster happenings. Thanks, Doc!

P.S. By "horny" I meant the brass band, ya perv.

Posted by at 2:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)