Mass at St. James Apostle was great. It started out with a troup of acrobats from Gabon who dance, shook, flipped, and stood on top of each other to proclaim the resurrection.
For lunch, we had grilled pork chops, pan amb tomaquet, grilled plantains, and garlic stir-fried kale with fresh salsa.
I'm going to make pear sorbet now.
I am in Las Vegas right now, a town which fills me with righteous indignation. Still, I have found three glimmers of hope today. There's always hope, right?
1) Fresh corn tortillas from Supermercado del pueblo. In the store, they were still warm and squeezably soft through the plastic baggy. They have that bright sunshiny fresh masa taste, and they were spongy chewy. It is rare to be able to pull a tortilla out of the baggy and just snack on it.
2) I called Guardian Angel Cathedral this evening to see what time Easter Mass is tomorrow morning, and because the office is open late tonight, I was able to talk to a person. I asked her what time masses were, and she said 7:oo, 9:oo, 11:oo, 1:oo, and 5:oo. Then I asked her if she knew of a predominantly African American parish in Las Vegas, and she said, nope. But you might try St. James the Apostle on Martin Luther King. I'll be there tomorrow for 11:00 Mass if you're looking for me.
3) My mama pronounces it beefy; Uncle L might pronounce it "beepy." Anyway, it's a Biffy, and if you don't know what a Biffy is, it's like a headset for your cell phone. Only instead of your head, it sits on your toilet. And instead of bringing you communication, it jets your butt clean with water; all from the comfort of your toilet bowl.
First you do your business. Then, if you have some major residue, you can tp it off. Then you pull the lever. A targeting stream will start gurgling underneath you. You can maneuver the targeting stream to the bull's eye by easing the lever back. Then, when you've got target lock, you use the little thumb valve on the lever to "open 'er up."
Grossed out? Scandalized? Shocked? Disgusted? Frightened? Interesting. Me? I'm CLEAN AS A WHISTLE.
I wanted you to read my description before I gave you the link.
my sister: Is it like a hose?
me: It's more like a robot arm.
my sister: Is it ugly?
me: Is a wireless headset for your cellphone ugly?
my sister: Sometimes it is ugl-...
me: CLEAN AS A WHISTLE.
My life can be divided into two distinct sections; the pre-Biffy, not-so-fresh epoch, the blissfully unaware period; then there's the CLEAN AS A WHISTLE PERIOD. It is a whole new era. And the Biffy was the bridge to this brave new world.
If you check out that website, you'll notice that there are more economical, and might I add, more stylish, butt hoses. Others have suggested that they would prefer the hose. Me, I'm still trying to work out the mechanics of the butt hose cleaning process, and I can't help feeling like the hose gives you way too much freedom, which is dangerous. Would access be a problem . . . under there? How would the hose affect the big-assed? If I missed, would there be poop water on the ceilings and walls?
I like the mechanical arm of the Biffy. No shifting or reaching, just stay where you are, put your cursor on the objective, and then ease open the throttle.
Or, heck, throw open the throttle, if you're feeling lucky.
Not the most well composed picture in the world, but you can see. Grilled porkchops, chop suey, rice, and chips. That's guava juice in my glass.
I'm here at my folks place in Vegas until Wednesday. Yes, we're eating pork on Good Friday.
Is Good Friday always a full moon? Must be.
here's the fondue we had. The cheese is gruyere and extrasharp which cheddar with beer. the dippers are (clockwise from upper left) ciabatta cubes, boiled white potatoes, seared mushrooms, turkey meatballs, andouille sausage, pre-cooked prawns, american brocolli. there are also two little bowls of olives on the table. mmm. 
Howdy folks. I'm just blogging that there's nothing to blog.
I've bought a fondue pot--it's also a fire pot. I made some really good beef and oyster sauce.
Is there anything else to say? I wish I could find my camera's charger.
fa bellissimo tempo oggi; non ho voglia di perdere una domenica cosi bella al lavoro, ma cosa ne posso fare.
Bene. Smetto di sufare.
I'm fighting an exhausting head cold, so I took the day off of work tomorrow. I dropped an Airborne to clear my head, and I squirted some gel up my nose to try to relieve my sore throat. An MD told me one that my throat was getting irritated because I had post nasal drip that went not out my nose but down my throat.
GROSS.
So he perscribed some kind of gel. I don't know if you've ever used a nasal gel before, but it's basically like a nasal mist, only gel. You have to prime the pump the first time you use it, and every time, I forget to hold my hand over it. So there is a squirt of gel somewhere on the celing, and a puddle of gel somewhere in this room. That'll be fun to come across later.
Time for sub plans.
It's Saturday morning, but I got up at 7:30 and took a shower anyway. Sometimes on my days off I don't shower until late afternoon, which means I waste a day on the couch. I didn't want to waste today.
So I hopped in the car for breakfast at the Silver Fork and then to get gas. After that, I had a vague notion that I would sit somewhere nice and write.
Anyway, I got to the Silver Fork, and it was packed, so I didn't go in. I drove all over south Seattle and downtown until I finally ended up at the Mecca. I ordered corned beef hash with two eggs over medium and wheat toast. It was exactly what I wanted. I was worried that it was taking too long, but when it finally got to me, I realized that my hash had spent all that time on the grill, because every single bite of it had that crusty crust. It was awesome. It also had some green pepper in it, which I am now a huge fan of.
Then I drove all the way back to Rainier Beach to get my Safeway gas. It was $1.93/gallon AFTER my double discount. What crap.
It's now past 11, and I'm back home, because I'm sleepy again. I'll go out and write after a nap.
I checked the mail when I got home, and a kid I know is having his Eagle Scout ceremony. I have two things to say about this.
This is what happens when you forget to set your parking break. Your car rolls away backwards down the street under its own weight, and then inexplicably takes a 90 degree turn, suspending itself over a ditch.
You heard me.
First, I warmed a baguette roll in the oven (I gotsta buy me a toaster oven).
Then I seasoned a pork chop with salt, pepper, and cornmeal. Fried it up.
I have spent the last decade of my life eschewing the mayonaise, but I've learned a new philosphy from the almighty Television: mayonaise (and it's cousin 'butter') waterproofs your bread. I will never eat a soggy, soaked through sandwich again.
So anyway, mayo, mustard, a sliced tomato and a tiny pinch of salt.
DELICIOUS. That baby was in my mouth so fast, I did not have time to take a picture.
