2004 B.C.

I did no writing today, but I don't feel like it was at all wasted either. Obviously, since I stayed up until after two a.m. (and then slept poorly since I was drinking tea until five minutes before bedtime), I struggled to get up by nine -- and the only reason I got up at nine was so that I could make it into the gym for my ten a.m. training session with Alyssa. She tried to kill me with a variety of exercises involving medicine balls, resistance bands, etc., but I managed to survive. It felt more deadly if only because I was wearing sweats rather than proper moisture-wicking garb -- I was in worse shape laundry-wise than I thought I was, and so was wearing a ridiculous get-up to the gym. So, after I showered and grabbed a salad from their cafe, I immediately came home and did a batch of laundry.

While doing laundry, I was once again struck by how random it is that my next door neighbor is the sister of one of my favorite romance novelists. The sister is doing an art project for the author, and was saying how she needs to do some research since she doesn't know Regency fashion. So, helpful/dorky person that I am, I loaned her my book on 19th century English fashion -- even if I never ever meet the author, it's still cool to think that perhaps my book will in some small way influence some art for her. Yes, I'm crazy.

Over the course of the morning, I somehow ended up agreeing to host a dinner party tonight (the semi-regular Blood of Lincoln gathering). Jess and John sort of invited themselves over, since they were already going to be in the area, although we initially discussed doing takeout. However, I like to cook, don't get to cook anything more exciting than white chili very often, and so decided to make a sumptuous feast. Because the Chandlord was also going to be in attendance, I made two dishes: the chicken bouillabaisse that I made (with great success) for Katrina and Kirsten a few weeks ago, and the truffle butter pasta that is one of my old, tasty standbys.

So, I went to the grocery store and picked up the requisite ingredients for the feast, got home around 4:30, and began cooking. I'd made the bouillabaisse before, as mentioned above, but this one did not go quite so smoothly -- while it certainly came together faster (partially because I bought pre-peeled garlic cloves), I inadvertently scorched the oil that I browned the chicken in, and so I had to make the sauce in a separate pan, losing the browned bits (which were, in fact, charred bits) and making myself quite surly. I also tried a shortcut when making the rouille (a garlicky saffron mayonnaise) by using my immersion blender rather than whisking it by hand, and as a result, the rouille collapsed, turned suddenly from solid to liquid, and could never become solid again. That infuriated me, since a) the rouille last time made the dish and b) saffron is expensive and I basically just turned the saffron into liquid before tossing it out. However, all ended up being fine; the bouillabaisse itself was just as delicious as last time, even without the rouille. Also, the truffle butter pasta was a huge hit, as it always is -- it's also the easiest thing you can ever make for a dinner party, so it always feels like cheating. And, we drank a bottle and a half of wine, which always makes food go down more pleasantly.

As usual, though, I can't really repeat any of the jhokes that were made, because I've either forgotten them or wished that I could forget them. Let's just say that the key benefit of having dinner in a restaurant is that it keeps us moderately subdued. After a v. fun-filled dinner, replete with multiple toasts (most of which had to be repeated after we decided that if you laughed between clinking your glass and drinking your drink, the toast was void), a screening of the v. moving Detroit/Chrysler/Eminem commercial from the super bowl (which Chandlord failed to appreciate because she's not sufficiently 'merican), and a highly questionable decision to watch 'Sophie's Choice' at a future Blood of Lincoln event, everyone went home, and I decided to leave the mess in the kitchen for tomorrow.

And now, after catching up with the online world and talking to my brother (who seems to be enjoying school, although the initial topic of conversation was not enjoyable - my grandmother's sister passed away this morning, which my mother told me this afternoon, although she waited to tell my brother until after he had finished some grad school work this evening), I should go to bed. I'm glad I took some time off to cook and then socialize with friends, since I hadn't spent any appreciable time with friends since sometime in the middle of last week -- but tomorrow, I will conquer this masquerade scene (and the kitchen) or die trying. Goodnight!