Thomas Takes Us For A Ride/I Forgot How I Like To Take Pictures of People

On Saturday morning, I drove out to Roxborough to meet up with J. and her kids S. and N. The plan was to go out to Strasbourg, PA to ride on Thomas the Tank Engine. We had tickets for the 10:15 am departure (the actual train 'trip' was about 20 minutes) but we didn't end up getting there until around 10:45...there was a level of stress to this since the tickets said they were only valid for the specific time...thankfully things were a bit more flexible and we were able to take the 11:15 trip instead.
S. is a big fan of trains, you see.


I couldn't stop taking pictures.
Brothers can't get along all the time.


I think S. is watching the conductor here, waiting for his ticket to be punched.



My favorite picture of the group.

It's so hard to be a baby.


Yo Thomas, whazzup?




We also met Sir Toppum Hat (spelling?) and were surrounded by hordes of children and their parents. This all took place in Amish country...lots of horses and buggies and clothing on laundry lines. I think the next time I need to get out of town for a night, I'll go west and surround myself with fields and Amish people.

Thanks to J. for the day out!

Dinner c/o Cochon

Last Friday Mr. Ass invited me to join him and two of his friends (A. and J.) for dinner at Cochon, I happily accepted. I made my way using the bus system (look at me!), which worked fine until I had to transfer. According to the online trip planner I should have had to wait five minutes for my second bus...this actually was 15 minutes...before I gave up waiting in the cold and running late and hailed a cab, so long 75 cent transfer. That aside, we were seated in a pretty dark corner of the small byob restaurant...which resulted in over-flashed photographs. I wish the pictures could be a little more subtle because, and here's the thing, the food was really, really good. I started with the fried oysters with shaved fennel salad and a sherry-wine aioli. Now, traditionally, I detest the taste of fennel. In fact, when I ordered the dish I really didn't pay attention to the accoutrements of the dish, focusing only on the oysters. The salad was delicious and I kept trying to figure out what it was...in fact I didn't know until just now when I looked on the menu. I kind of wonder if it was fennel. It tasted nothing like licorice, just like yummmmmy.
As my main course I chose to go with the slow roasted pork shoulder. This was quite tasty....honestly I've made a tenderer shoulder but they did this thing so that the fat got crispy on the outside that was pretty cool, and lentils, well, I could take or leave them....on the other hand, I love Brussels sprouts and poached eggs...so, it worked out. Mr. Ass had their prix fixe/tasting menu that included chicken liver mousse (tasty),else and shoot, something else...and then a trio of truffles. A. started with a salad (I'm not sure if the website's salad is what she had) and had gnocchi for her main course. I didn't try her salad and found the gnocchi okay (I don't think I'm a gnocchi kind of girl, really). J. had the crispy chicken livers as his starter, I tried it...but actually took a walnut not a liver and didn't want to seem greedy (the others seemed to like it) and a duck dish for his main course (which was delicious if a little over-salted).
A place to which I will definitely return.

Mozzarella Sticks c/o North Star Bar

On Thursday I headed over to N.'s for a little card playing and wine drinking. We then went to North Star Bar for dinner, of sorts. I had the mozzarella sticks, he had the chicken wings. The sticks were cheesy and fine, though I did not care for the sauce.
N. was quite satisfied with his 'jerk' chicken wings...though they tasted far more like teriyaki than jerk. But whatever.

Themes Continued

I've been sort of passively watching Gossip Girl off and on since it went on air last year. Lately I've become a little more regular in my watching...switching less back and forth between How I Met Your mother and it (I just watch HIMYM later on hulu) and staying on the CW. Today one of my coworkers initiated this conversation, and I finally understood one element behind my choice...
cw (coworker) says:
are you in love with chuck bass even more now?
cc says:
um, oh my god, that pale skin
cc says:
that hatred fire pain in his eyes
cw says:
and his stumbling
cc says:
his grabbing blair's arm and looking all cried out
cc says:
sigh
cw says:
i hope he doesn't jump off the roof
cw says:
that would really kill the show for me
cc says:
i bet there's a porch right below it, or something
cc says:
i wouldn't really watch it without chuck bass
cw says:
no me either
cc says:
wow, the sheer truth of that statement kind of amazes me...like i sit through all the rest of it just for him. (this is what I like to call a telepiphany)
cc says:
i wonder if that's how girls felt when they watched 21 jump street (just waiting for Johnny Depp to appear)
cw says:
haha, i have no idea what that is
cc says:
you are so young
cc says:
Here's what I don't get. Why is it that Chuck Bass is so strangely appealing? I mean, he's not a good person.
cc says:
Would you actually, in real life, want to hang out with/kiss/etc a guy like that?
cw says:
but he secretly is
cc says:
but not really.
cw says:
he burned the lily thing
cc says:
Is it that small bit of goodness it?
cw says:
because he wanted a family
cw says:
he is only bad because his dad was evil
cc says:
That maybe I, or you, or girls, like to think about how that spark of goodness could be directed at them...thus who cares how bad he is to everybody else?
cw says:
although in real life these guys are always bad
cc says:
Exactly.
cw says:
and then girls will go for them and try to tame their baddness
cc says:
They're not bad/good.
cc says:
They're bad.
cw says:
but they are always bad and then girls swoon and love them, and try to to love the mean out of them
cw says:
basically boys are dumb
cc says:
and we'd like them to be cruel
cc says:
but not to us
cw says:
but we can't help but fall in love with chuck bass even if we have the foresight to know he is bad
cc says:
he is so bad.
cc says:
i just want to hug him
cc says:
and have him buy me something pretty
cc says:
and drink too much
cc says:
and then go to strip club in Cabo
cw says:
and buy bottle service
cc says:
!
cw says:
and take me in his limo
cc says:
and pick out his purple striped suits' ties and handkerchiefs
cw says:
indeed.

Themes

The Sunday my parents departed, I went out to the Manayunk movie theater to watch Twilight. This is what happened...I found it cheesy, I found the acting terrible, I found the book (which was not all that subtle) so much more nuanced than the movie...and then I left the theater wanting nothing more than to make out with a vampire who wants to protect me from their (and their vampire peers') desire to kill me.
I've been asking the few guys I know this question. If you are a guy, you are encouraged to leave a comment.

If girls watch that movie and sort of wish that they could be victims in order to be made out with my uber attractive vampires...what do guys wish when they watch? To be in that same role, only saved by a lady vampire? To be the man vampire/to have a girl who is incapable of taking care of herself? Something else entirely? Let me know.

Dim Sum c/o Joy Tsin Lau, Part 3

It wouldn't be a visit from the parents without a dim sum Sunday. We went to Joy Tsin Lau. It was good. There were plenty of treats to eat. Including pork siu mai.
Sh'ramp dumplings.
Bean curd skin wrapped around magical meaty filling.
Spinach dumplings!
Shrimp-laden fun noodles properly lathered with sweet soy-like sauce.
Taro.
Egg custard dessert.

Boys, What's the Deal?

I generally abstain from writing about my feelings, thoughts or personal life on this blog. This is mainly because I don't generally have feelings, thoughts or much of a personal life to speak of, and so it's pretty easy to keep the content of this outlet to the realms of food, drink, and media. That said, I feel the need to write a little about a recent turn of events that unfolded, undramatically enough, over the last week or two. Forgive me, if you'd rather not read about my thoughts on boys. Forgive me, if what I end up writing is pure bunk. But, whatever, it's my blog and I'll blog if I want to.
So, a little while ago I found myself having drinks with a boy (I guess, at 27, I should really start referring to the opposite sex as men) whom I met over the, gasp, internet. Leading up to this real life interaction, we exchanged witty back and forths that I found quite entertaining (I can only assume he was entertained) and so when it was suggested that we meet, I thought why not? I had already established, in my head, a few general facts that allowed the pressure to be pretty much non-existent from my perspective: he was too skinny for me (by this I mean, that I would be too big for him), he was too hip for me (by this I mean that he was clearly part of a 'scene') and, well, that was it. So I went, figuring I might be wrong and wouldn't that be nice...but if I was right I wouldn't sink into some spiral of self-hate that would do me, and the people I talk to about these sorts of things, no good. Unfortunately, the night didn't unfold as succinctly as my imagined outcomes. We met, we had a beer, then we had another...and then I gave him the opportunity to call it a night and he suggested we have another. So, in all, we spoke for about three hours and had three beers. Eye contact was made, a range of topics were discussed. I considered it a success and said as much. He seemed to agree, saying we should do this again some time (or something to that effect), then we hugged awkwardly and went our separate ways (question: how the hell do people kiss when they don't know each other and they're not drunk, or spinning a bottle or dared or in imminent danger?..teetotalers/well adjusted individuals, I'd really like to hear how any of you ever get together). The next day he contacted me and asked how my walk home was, we had a bit of a textual conversation and I asked if he might like to meet again in a week or so's time. He said yes, though he didn't know his schedule. A week or so is basically now. I initiated one last conversation, in which he participated and I enjoyed...but at no point was another rendezvous scheduled, or mentioned (I'm totally willing to be proactive but not at the risk of seeming insistent or playing the fool). This is all just a little perplexing to me. Why spend three hours hanging out when you could have left after two-or even one? Why contact me if you were just being polite? Why remain engaged in conversation if, really, you're 'just not that into me'? I have enough trouble reading people (back in the day when I hung out with large groups of mixed gender groups (ie before I started working at an office staffed almost entirely by women with very few male friends), I had this really great habit of thinking someone found me pretty or interesting when, in fact, they thought the girl next to me, or behind me, or in the other room was pretty and interesting), without half of a person's actions fitting one mindset and the other half the exact opposite.
This is to be expected, I assume, in all forms of dating: blind, speed, hell, internet etc. I will take it for the team. But it does niggle, just a bit. I thought I knew who I was going to marry and have children with, and now I don't...but I don't go into a date thinking 'boy oh boy, maybe this will be it!'...if anything I go into it thinking 'let's chat for a while, see if we make each other laugh and then maybe we'll make out'. And the strange thing about dating is you aren't really supposed to be that honest, are you? While it has long been considered dating death to talk about your ex, your fervent desire for marriage, or your straight-up craziness on a first meeting...isn't it equally standard procedure to withold your general intentions or expectations? I have no idea. I write like I've been on a million dates when, in fact, that is so far from the truth that it'd be more accurate to say that I only learned of the custom last week. This is why I don't write about my feelings...I lack clarity.

Dinner c/o Tied House

After the races and car wash we returned to the apartment for a bit before heading out to the Tied House for dinner. We shared an olive appetizer and I had the fish and chips.
The beer and the food was very good. And look at those giant green olives! My father especially enjoyed his five spice short ribs.

At The Car Wash

After the races, we went to the car wash.

The Races c/o Philadelphia Park

On Saturday my parents and I went to the races. We sat on the restaurant-y side of the complex and my father and I had lunch in addition to the so-so (actually, they weren't very good) bloody Mary's and bottles of Budweiser. I ordered the roast pork sandwich with provolone and broccoli raab. It was very disappointing. I mean, I know not to expect much from a racetrack's kitchen, but meh (totally acceptable word), I did not finish it.
I won once but it did not counterbalance the many losses of the day. But it was fun nonetheless.

French Movie and Bookbinder's Beverage

After the pho, my parents and I went to the Ritz to see A Christmas Tale. Immediately after the movie, I was a bit put off. There's this certain kind of French movie where a lot happens but the significance of any of it is a little murky. While I feel that I am generally an intelligent person, I must admit that I sometimes want my movies to be a little more straightforward with their message. Or this is how I felt. But over the last week, I have found myself thinking about the emotional makeup of some of the characters, trying to figure it out. And so I give the movie credit for engaging me and keeping itself open-ended enough for me to be unsure of its meaning...though I do not completely take it back...my initial sigh over the French (but damn their food is good).
Afterwards we passed Bookbinders and stopped in for a drink. My mother and I had some bubbly beer, like a fancy Blue Moon. My mother didn't like it. I liked it.

Best Ever c/o Pho Ha

On Friday my father had a hankering for a Philly cheesesteak. Still new to the area, myself, I figured Pat's would be a safe choice. Of course I hadn't really understood how busy the place gets...the line stretched all the way around the building and back again. We were trying to get to a movie in 45 minutes and didn't have faith that the line would be that magical-quick.

So we went with our second hankering...pho. We went to Pho Ha simply because it was the first place we saw in an Asian shopping mall just east of Italian Market, on Washington. Now, I've had Pho in D.C., Maryland, Chicago, Alabama and North Carolina and I can say that the bowl I had was truly the best I've ever had...I don't know about the best in Philly but definitely the best in my life.
The menu is nice in its breakdown of the different meats you can add to the broth and noodles, and a basic description of the flavor that results. Also they have the option of customizing your bowl further by adding/lessening your noodles, broth, meat etc. I had #8 (steak, flank, fatty flank) and ordered my broth 'extra fatty'.

Bowls came in small and large (and maybe extra large?), my mother and I ordered smalls and, as much as I wanted to, I couldn't quite get to the bottom of it. Man oh man, I'll go back!
Just looking at it makes any dinner I could possibly make for myself tonight pale in comparison. Sigh.