Bistrot du Coin

Escargot and Cote du Rhone on the zinc bar.

Yes yes, I know they are a bit blurry and a lot dark, but I'm not about to fight against a dimly lit bistrot, rather, encourage it and my hand aint' so steady.

Green glass bottles, snails absolutely swimming in garlic and butter and glasses and glasses of red wine. It's less like Dupont Circle and more like Le Marais. But I can also walk back to my apartment in less than 10 minutes (dangerous-especially when they begin to throw open their front windows).
I wish the servers had been French, is that unfair? I just wanted to hear one obnoxiously untouched French accent, though, Alli and I did make a point of reading the wine list in French accents while we were waiting for a table. It makes me crazy that Alli has a better French accent without ever having taken a class than me, having taken 8 years of French. She is making a great deciding face in the first picture and yes, Alli is one of those people that actually makes those kinds of faces in real life.

Can we all just agree to go to Paris sometime?

Texts from My Dad

"Prodigal daughter"

"So did u make it wench?"

"Fire sure is hot ova here"

"U ducking me wench? Replacements last night at 8pm-see it?

"You no vistit us today? We miss you"

"You're smelcome"

"Have stupendously safe and enjoyable trip"

"How you b? Heading out for Mexican"

"Buenos noches"

Still love him even if he hasn't responded to my last two text messages.

My Boots

Georgetown snow in the early morning

Finally, a little bit of snow. It makes the buttons and zippers and gloves and breathing deeply into your hands worth it. I welcomed the blisters from my boots and tried to ignore the salted streets because honestly, would a snow day have been so terrible?

I would have stayed home in my union suit, reading for book club and questioning how many hot chocolates in one day is too many (more than two, I'm afraid-but ghetto mochas don't count!)

I love the slowness of snow days as if the stillness of the air affects time. Somehow I always fit in hours of sledding plus thawing time plus endless pots of hot chocolate that my Mom always seemed to have ready right when we got home from the sledding hill PLUS a viewing of Snow Day, always. But I'll save that for a real snow storm.

Sweet Teeth

You guysssss, did you ever watch Pippi Longstocking? Lauren and I loved that movie. This scene is like a vague dream from my childhood. When I see it, I can taste the smell of my pillowsack when it's filled with Halloween candy. Those kids eat so much candy they can hardly breath and they eat it until they are sick. That's how I always wanted to eat candy.

When you were younger, didn't you think alcohol was going to be delicious? In the movies people were always wanting to drink it so I assumed it tasted amazing and it always looked so sparkly and adult. I imagined tumblers full of whiskey tasting of liquified Swedish Fish.
Dommage.

Tuesday Evenings

This particular Tuesday we had a belated celebration of two events that happen to fall on the same day, the birth of our Lord and Savior, Norite and Jesus' birthday. Somehow we pulled off a surprise dinner at Acqua al 2 across from THE Eastern Market and then had Secret Santa at my apartment. I love love Eastern Market, especially when I can catch more of a glimpse from the shuttle. After 5:00 all the young(ish) black frame glasses-wearing brunette people return from their downtown DC jobs to their pastel rowhouses to cook fabulous dinners and leave their curtains wide open. Seriously, everyone living in Eastern Market is brunette.

The food was good, I had gnocchi with Italian cabbage that would make Fabio (and his turtle) swoon. The company, however. Well lets just say I was happy we were seated in a dark corner where we could only make the couple next to us, and not the entire restaurant, uncomfortable. After cheesecake with an exposed red bra reduction, we had a lovely drive back to Georgetown through night light DC. Add still getting excited to see the Capitol to the long list of the reasons why I hate the metro.

These Tuesdays make the weeks go by fast.

Oh and doesn't my water glass look like outer space in the picture?

Why I Have Photoshop

Because I have a very special mission. Because this face needs to be everywhere. Because this is our President.

New Years Weekend

Friday we drove in the Exploder to We the Pizza for lunch. New Years Eve we had a pot-luck, drank lots of champagne (enough that i didn't leave the apartment until 5pm the next day and the highlight of the entire day was juggling fruit) and played Pictionary. My parents also played Pictionary at their New Years Eve party but they played it on the Wii. How are they cooler than me? How?

The rest of the weekend I would like to summarize in a few words.
And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!
Thank you.

Accio Twenty Eleven

My first blogpost ever was about my goals for 2010. Let's see how I've done:

Work on French : I drank a good amount of wine in 2010.
Volt: Whatever.
Minibar: What was I thinking?
Zaytinya: Yes, but threw up in the middle of dinner and we had to leave.
2 Amys: Yes!
Rays Hellburger: Yes, twice.
The Gibson: Whatever.
Run a Half Marathon: I had intentions, damnit. Intentions! Then I tore my hamstring and just never really...riiiiiiiight.
Visit Monica in LA: Visited her in Palm Springs. I'll give myself half a point here.
Take more photos: DUH.

My goals are really embarassing to go back in read. Perhaps it's the fact that I really didn't accomplish many of them, or maybe that half of them were restaurants? I mean, New Years goals are supposed to be about self-improvement, right? I suppose those are resolutios, I think there is a difference. This year I'm going to try and clean up my 2010 list and add an important resolution.

Visit Monica in LA (for the full point)

Run a Half Marathon

Simplicity and focus

These should be doable 2012 Kerry if you are still alive! I believe in you!

Last thing: The End's Not Near by Band of Horses is and will always be the perfect New Years song.

Merry Christmas

A Christmas Eve present from Lauren.

Christmas Tree Lights

Koa, laying in the middle of the lights as we stretched them across the floor before putting them on the tree.

A Conversation with Mr. Kelly

Monica: My Dad did all of his shopping online. Isn't he brilliant?
Sent at 2:13 PM on Monday
Monica: Hi Kerry. It's me, Mr. K. We r looking forward to having you to dinner tonight. See ya. What the French, toast!
me: oh my god.
my day is made.
Monica: R u going to wear the glasses????
me: yes i am.
if you would like.
Monica: Yea!
me: /wouldn't be embarassed??
Monica: No!
me: excellent. glasses are game.
Monica: Gots to go now and check out my stocks. Checking out.
me: amazing.

New York iPhone

The bus hub

A purple stained hand

The gentleman eating his noodles

Unhappy in pecan pie


The westest christmas tree in New York

New York

I put a few photos from New York up on my flickr. This second photo was taken by Drew. It's one of my favorites from the trip, go figure.

iPhone fun to follow when I have nothing to do at work.

The National Tree of China Smells like Parmesean Cheese

I know this, because the path along Rose park is lined with big Ginko Trees and I walk along the path every day. In the fall, their fan-shaped leaves turned the most amazing shade of yellow.

Ginko Leaves

A few weeks ago, however, my intimate relationship with the Ginkos began to waiver along when big yellow berries began dropping in my path by the hundreds. Not only is it impossible to avoid smashing five berries with every step, but when crushed, the berries bleed a goopy flesh that smells, in a word, cheesy.

Because I walk through them every day, I have had time to progressivly pinpoint their smell: Bad -> Vomit -> Cheese -> Old Cheese -> Parmesean Cheese -> Wet Parmesean Chesse. And that is exactly what they smell like.

The obvious solution would be to avoid Rose Park in the first few weeks of winter. Allow me, however, to throw this into the mix: Rose Park is also a dog park. So that's that.

My Favorite Kitchen

Is in Blacksburg, VA.

In the kitchen is a giant wood stove that eats wood all day and night. It heats the house and makes it smell of wood smoke. In front of the stove is a big comfy chair to sit in and read. The kitchen was added after the house was built and the original siding still makes up one wall.

The house has slanted stairs and wooden floors painted blue, it has a library with a record player and whiskey, but that doesn't matter.
Not as much as the kitchen.

But maybe as much as Mike's roommates' amazing dog Finn, a retired racing greyhound and the tallest, sweetest dog.

Oh also, you can walk from the kitchen of Mike's house to the basment of the Cellar in less than 2 mintues. Whaaaaat?

Modernist Cuisine

Modernist Cuisine is apparently going to revolutionize cooking because it's a 2,400 page tome explaining science-based and modern techniques in cooking. The photos look amazing and I'm sure it will be interesting, but it's not going to be released until March of 2011.

I visited the blog and found this video and probably watched it about 27 times in a row. As if I didn't already love popcorn enough.

Thanksgiving with My Family

A perfectly dreary Thursday for Thanksgiving. I forced home-made green bean casserole and corn-syrupless pecan pie on my family this year. Brian protested because he loves canned green beans?
I also made and ruined the gravy, but got off the hook because my Dad turned our turkey into a zombie (hilarious, actually).

Because of the turkey fiasco, my family had another Thanksgiving Sunday where my Dad could give deep frying a turkey one more go (it was really good the second time). So that's 4 Thanksgivings in all for me. Awe-some. I need to start running again...

I put more photos from Thanksgiving and other stuff up on my flickr.

My Best Friend Is Famous and Yours Isn't

ha-HA
Monica is on IMDB!

Dress Your Baby in American Apparel

Ladies and gentlemen, I am sad to announce the death of any shred of self-respect American Apparel once possessed. The other week, while walking down M street, I saw this small bebe mannequin in the window.

RIP comfy v-necks in assorted colors. RIP checkered button-up that I bought once and then returned because it made me look like a man/lesbian. RIP bright purple zip-up with the sleeves just a tad longer than I would like but is so comfy I will probably continue to wear it

Now go, get.
DON'T MAKE THIS HARDER THAN IT HAS TO BE, BUDDY.

Ain't no rules says a dog can't play basketball.

Texts from My Dad

"Cougar alert. They're everywhere..."

"Want anything special for din din?"

"Relacements on channel 221. Rock on"

"You duckin me wench?"

"Point Break on right now - rock on"

"I'm glad you understand I am a deeply cerebral man."

"Yo momma" to be followed the next day with "Have I told you about yo mamma?"

"Point Break - 8:00 pm - b there"

"Case of bud under the stretcher"

"Ha ha-you're working and I'm not!!!! - have a stupendous day"

Love that man.