Every now and then I remember that something I want to do someday is sit at the bar at Aquavit in Manhattan and sample some of the varieties of Aquavits they make. It's about as close as we can get to experiencing Swedish drinking culture without going overseas. I wonder if they even do the drinking songs? I very much doubt that.

One problem with being Swedish-American is that it's hard to connect to your roots without being in one of a handful of places full of ethnic Swedes. It ain't like being Italiano. In Jamestown I can get the cardamom rolls, the skorpors, proper cookies, Swedish chocolate, and all sorts of other things. In Buffalo not so much, although I did find the Lingonberries at Premier recently while looking for white peach puree and dried morels.

It is an unfortunate fact that Swedish cuisine has a poor reputation, because the bad stuff is REALLY bad, so I don't know how much I am going to be doing Swedish cooking, but I really want to try an Aquavit. A few years back the NYC restaurant decided to commercially produce one of their more popular Aquavits. Joy!! The bitch of it is that it isn't available outside of the NY metro area.



Of course, it isn't as strong as a normal Aquavit, which is almost always taken straight up, and it is flavored with white cranberry as opposed to some of the weirder options, but it's probably as good as I can do given the circumstances. I'm absolutely certain it could form the base of my next 750. I need to find a way to get my hands on some of this stuff. I promise to share!

I'm sorry, I can't let this one go without comment. Someone else said how shameful it is for a guy to order an Appletini, or any -tini variation. I definitely agree, but I also like my fruity ass drinks at Cecelia's on occasion (can't do olives), so I found a solution. Just change the drink's name. Appletini becomes the William Tell, Electric Lemonade becomes the Thunderbolt, and I'm sure I've named a few of them other far less emasculating things like Jackhammer, Piledriver, Hot Rod, and Five Alarm. Thank God my favorite at Cecelia's is called the Metropolitan. See, you can have your silly ass drinks and still not be considered an asshole, at least in your own mind.

I don't talk about work a lot, but the last couple of days have been very frustrating. You would think that a HUGE, INTERNATIONAL vendor would have its shit together but sometimes it just doesn't work out that way. Sometimes, they give you wrong documentation, other times they give you wrong answers, and hours of wasted productivity later they ask YOU to send THEM the correct documentation that was "lost" a year ago. What? Why don't you have your own shit? Why were we given wrong information time and again? Why are you wasting my fucking time? It's unbelievable, and we pay for the privilege.

Normally I do have to wear Business Caszh, but today since we have a company wide meeting at some banquet facility I have to wear a suit and tie. I wish I had a suit that fit better, and some more ties. Plus maybe a jacket or two. Plus those cowboy boots.

I also noticed my hair is getting too long. It starts to curl at the sides and the back. Anyone who's seen the baby picture in the apartment knows the end result. Time to get Mr. Buzz Buzz out and get busy.

I'm praying there's food at this thing today.....

Yep, that's about all I got for now. Since I've been hating on that beef broth beverage I am going to make one tonight and try it before I turn my nose up any further. I also need an updated 750 for the spring and summer.

I have been waiting quite a while to try this one. It seems to be hard to find at any of the local beer stores, but today we found some at the beer boutique down the street.

Mmmmm......a pretty good wheat beer. I know I've spoken with a couple of you about this. Get it while you can!

Well, I just woke up. Oh God. A few of us thought it was an excellent idea to drink 4/5 of a bottle of Dewar's before we went out. Might as well have polished the whole fucking lot of it. Then we went to Hardware again, which was fine and all except I can't talk to girls when I'm so drunk. Ad libbing takes a lot of brain power for me, and I have almost no patience for bullshit talk, so in that circumstance my mind is more Model T instead of Corvette. I think Joe knew this and left me with two girls who I didn't even like. Jesus, I can still taste the whiskey.

Edit: I just saw a guy who was a dead ringer for Roman Abramovich over at the coffee shop. And some lady drove by yelling "Hey Baby" at me through her car window (well, a sheet of plastic, you know how it goes sometimes). At least I have my coffee and an oatmeal cookie to nurse myself back to awareness.

As most of you know, (e:Joshua) is a major Kerouac fan, so of course we've had a number of conversations about Kerouac, his religious journey, what he did, where he went - but most importantly to me WHY something like that is more than a series of anecdotes.

I have to admit I've been engrossed in Lonesome Traveler, especially the portion of it called Alone On A Mountaintop. In that story Jack takes a position as a Fire Watch on Desolation Peak in Washington state. This is also recreated in his novel Desolation Angels.

During the story Jack's thoughts wandered a little to his spirituality. There is an excerpt I want to share with you.

What strange sweet thoughts come to you in the mountain solitudes! --- One night I realized that when you give people understanding and encouragement a funny little meek childish look abashes their eyes, no matter what they've been doing they weren't sure it was right --- lambies all over the world.

For when you realize that God is Everything you know that you've got to love everything no matter how bad it is, in the ultimate sense it was neither good nor bad (consider the dust), it was just what was, that is, what was made to appear. --- Some kind of drama to teach something, some "despised substance of divinest show."

And I realized I didn't have to hide myself in desolation but could accept society for better or for worse, like a wife --- I saw that if it wasn't for the six senses, of seeing, hearing, smelling, touching, tasting and thinking, the self of that, which is non-existent, there would be no phenomena to perceive at all, in fact no six senses or self. --- The fear of extinction is much worse than extinction (death) itself.

I probably had a similar revelation some years ago. I can't tell you how much I hate Westboro. I don't use that word a whole lot, and they haven't wronged me *personally* but I feel justified in hating them. Do they *really* know God or Jesus? I have my doubts. I've had arguments with hard core fundies before about some of their scriptural interpretation, such as God calling us to be judgmental of others.

What Jack realized, and I think many others who followed a different spiritual path will agree as well, is that the answer to hate isn't hate. After all, they make their money off of people reacting to their hate. They would love for me to knock someone's teeth out. So this is something I struggle with. Maybe the answer isn't to hate *them*, but to love gays to a much higher degree than they hate the gays. Or maybe the right answer is, as others have said, to ignore them completely and give them zero attention.

It seems like the best solutions are the ones that are the most difficult for us to execute. I just hope we can be better than them.

My apartment, that's where!

I have to say I did pretty damn well for my first attempt at the Boeuf Bourguignon. (e:Joshua) claims he couldn't have done any better. I don't have any photos, because let's face it I don't have the gear to make beef stew look sexy, but you can trust me when I say it was delicious.

Two mistakes to correct - I think I cooked the onions on a little higher heat than was necessary, and I didn't get the simmer started right at first. That stuff should be fairly easy to get right and the next time it's going to be unbelievable.

To use a golf analogy, when you hit one shot perfectly straight at the range the first time you try it motivates you to keep on playing.

I wish I had gotten your suggestion earlier, (e:JBeatty) - I used just the cup of wine and am curious about how you made the sauce with your consistency and color. I browned the meat like a champ.

Next - I'm doing some sirloin steaks tomorrow with a pan sauce. These bad boys look good. I might be eating better this week than I have in a very long time.

So! Today I have the day off and it is a beautiful day, so I should be in a pretty good mood. I'm not, and I think it's because I'm uncomfortable with a conversation I had the other day. I've sedated myself enough that I can actually stop pacing and talk about things. I think I'll just purge my system of this and move on with my day, and later my boeuf bourguignon.

I learned from Jerry that not only has he not been trying to set me up with any of his girlfriend's friends, he is actually against the idea altogether. Keep in mind this is my best friend - even if you don't want them to set you up with anyone can you imagine hearing this from someone you're so tight with?

Now I have a number of questions that may never be answered, but I think I understand at least part of the motivation. He saw what happened when Walt and Andrea hooked me up with her friend, and I've chronicled it all for you on my blog numerous times. She cheated, I lost it, my friends ended up going on vacation with her one time, and I heard from them how cool they think she is now. It presented a number of uncomfortable conversations and situations for a bunch of people, not just me.

I'm going to pat myself on the back and give myself at least this much credit - I couldn't handle being betrayed by my ex, but through the aftermath, every bitter pill I have swallowed and tried my best to accept that sometimes, especially if you're a guy, in this situation you just lose no matter whether things are your fault or not. It helped me to develop a stiff upper lip and I've used it as something to learn from and hopefully to better myself as well.

Now I find myself in another situation where I feel I'm being punished for something that wasn't my fault. Another bitter pill to swallow, another shit sandwich to eat. Time to smile and pretend it tastes good.

It's too bad, it's Jackie's friends loss anyway. I know my good and my bad, I know my quality, and I'm 110% certain that I could be a better guy to hang out with than most of the shitheads they've been exposed to even with my flaws. I think I could even avoid pissing them off. And, this might surprise you, said girl that caused this mess would probably testify. Today I am the same whimsical, carefree person I was when I met her.

So, I choose to take this as another learning situation, and I refuse to let this affect me for too long. I don't think it makes what Jerry said okay, I'm still really not happy about it, and I don't know what if anything I'm going to do about it yet, but it's not going to cause me to introduce even a tiny bit of doubt about myself.

Phew. Okay, now I think I can cook and handle a knife. I'm going to attempt the Boeuf Bourguignon, Bourdain's version, later this afternoon and if it turns out well I may take some food porn photos. (e:JBeatty) claims it is easy. I also found a steak recipe on Epicurious I am going to try this week that claims everything will come together in 30 minutes for an elegant meal. A short list of ingredients, and not a lot of time? That's my kind of cooking. The Boeuf obviously will take longer, but that's why you keep the rest of the wine handy.

To the single girls who don't have anyone on Valentine's Day tomorrow, this is for you. I don't feel so bad about being single on Valentine's Day, maybe the most nerve wracking holiday ever invented, but I know some women get a little down on themselves.



Okay, so it's an origami rose............not authentic but it's the thought that matters, right?