Time for some thought vomit . . . the tasty kind

It's time for another round of this month's favorites . . . and maybe a few un-favorites. Why? Because I wanna. Why else? Because you, dear reader, need this exposure. Trust me.

Food: I think I have a case of the MSGs. Ever since our double date to Sushi Ya with the Jonsters, Richard and I have been craving sushi like Edward craves his personalized crack (please catch this allusion). I was apprehensive by the "all you can eat" aspect of this sushi bar. If working at Whistle Wok and Classic Skating during high school taught me anything, it was to be suspicious of a) cheap Asian food, b) anything served in or around entertainment joints like Nickle City, Jack and Jill's Bowling, or DZ Discovery Zone (remember that place?), and c) all you can eat buffets in ghetto-land Provo. Bad new bears, man. However, I was first relieved and then a bit giddy to discover that Sushi Ya is more than meets the eye. Oh my sultan-of-all-that-is-sushi goodness! Approaching the building you'd suspect--based on the outward appearance--that it would be swarming with FDA coppers, but the interior is nice and the food is even nicer. Yes, nicer! (More nice? *Brain eroding*) It's kind of a fun, little mermaid "under the sea" experience. Cool exterior=big ole goldfish and snapping turtle in a fish pond that keep you happily entertained as you wait. And let's not forget the neat wall murals of the ocean and bubbles and fishies. Oh boy! It's not super posh or nothin', but it ain't ghetto neither.

Now, the food is what matters most and it does not disappoint (and even if it did, it has a strange addictive quality that makes up for anything it might lack. At this point, I'm so addicted that it doesn't even matter to me anymore. I must have those tempura rolls! I MUST!!!). Our top picks have been the Veggie Tempura (cheap for those poor days) the Happy (full of cream cheesey goodness), the Rocky Mountain (towering with tasty fishies), the Orange Julius (by far the prettiest roll I've ever seen, and last but not least--and actually the best--the Spicy Crunch roll. Heaven. Seriously. Oh, Spicy Crunch roll. I love you.

Runner-up on this month's food favorites: Settebello. Honestly, this restaurant by all accounts should have won first place in my heart/stomach, but it just doesn't use MSG like Sushi Ya does. It's like smashed up smarties competing with cocaine. I mean, dag, yo.

DISCLAIMER: I don't actually know if Sushi Ya uses MSG or not. Either way, of this thing I am absolutely positive. I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with edwa...uh, Sushi Ya.

Drink: I just wrote a novel about sushi, so I'll keep this brief. The all-too-hard-to-track-down Pear Yerba Mate Sobe is this beverage month's winner. It was all over the place this summer,

then come September it disappeared. Richard even spent a good hour and a half trying to track it down for me one night. He visited a total of four grocery stores and three gas stations without any luck. But today, a miracle of miracles happened. The glorious Pear Yerba Mate sat contently on the very well-stocked shelves of Macey's. *Fits of glee* Richard is yet again the bestest Husband ever. He don't bring home just the bacon; he brings home the Sobe. The Pear Yerba Mate is at the top of my drink list for the following reasons: 1) Low sugar + slight caffeine=pep without the jitters. 2) It tastes reeeeal good. You get the yummyness of pear without the sometime unwanted texture/peel. 3) Apparently it's a rare collectors drink now, which makes it SUPER desirable. Scarcity drives desire, right? Something like that.

*Pause*

Just now a baby spider strung itself down it's little sticky webby-string from my swoopy bangs. Should I be concerned? Poor little guy was probably getting high on hair spray. Now he's nothin' but spidey mash.

Moving on....

Music: Oh man. Get excited. Are you excited yet? OK, here it goes.

Live music - The band is called Honey, Honey and we saw them open for Joshua James in The State Room. A cool venue and a cool band. Well, a talented band. Let me explain. I feel like they could have been cool if they weren't trying so hard to be cool. It seemed like the lead gal was trying to pull off the tough-girl act, but honestly she probably grew up in a well-to-do neighborhood and had private violin lessons her whole life. And that's OK. She should just role with it. Nothing as awkward as someone pretending to be something their not on stage. But, bless her heart, she's in showbiz and we all know what that does to people.

At any rate, I loved their sound--a "butt country" sound, if I can quote Chris. Or to clarify, a country/rock/blue-grass group with a killer bass player and a very talented lead vocalist who also tore it up on the banjo and violin. She has inspired me to quit my life, get a band together, hit the road in a VW hippy van with Richard, and tour the snot out of the U.S. Chris didn't like her vocals, and I know he's the music authority in our family because he opened for Dashboard, beyond doing a bajillion other cool/intelligent things, but I have to disagree with him here. She had a raw Carlille meets Adele sound with a slew of soulful overtones. Now, some of their songs were just OK for me. They are, after all, just getting on their feet. I'll excuse them for that. My favorite song is featured below (and you may have heard it because it was released in 2010, but I'm just getting back into this stuff so amuse me, OK?).

(I was gonna provide the music video for you here, but my compy is slow. You'll have to do the leg work on this one. Here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q3YmaADISlo)

Purchased Music - I know it's a little early, but A Very She and Him Christmas is worthy of year-round listening. Zooey Deschanel, first of all, is just the cutest thing that's ever hit the big screen, radio, and TV. And second of all, who didn't fall in love with her singing in Elf? Well, now you can hear her swoon the Christmas tunes all over again! Favorite moment in the album: She takes the man's part in "Baby it's cold outside" making it less-stalkerish/semi-criminal and giving me a good chuckle.

So yeah, rock on Zooey! And rock on to the Him guy, too. So sorry . . . I don't know your name, but you play guitar like a champ. I love you, promise. :)

Also neat?

<----The new Feist album, Metals. Oh Leslie, you've done it again, you wonderful thing. Check out the new goods here and be happy: http://www.listentofeist.com/

Hmm...I seem to have run out of free time. And my craving for sushi has returned in full force.

Will. Continue. Blog. Later.

But...I can't sign off until I brief this next favorite;

Favorite Husband: The winner is . . . *drumroll* . . . Richard! Although it makes me feel like an old fogy to use the word husband, he is definitely the best! Hands down. No competition. My other husbands suck. (Sorry guys.)

Richard and I have been married six months now, so we're basically experts on this marriage thing. Life with him has been awesome. I mean, have you seen his face?! He's freakin' gorgeous. Whose life wouldn't rock with a little bit of Richard thrown in the mix? I appreciate what he brings to my life. He really keeps me grounded and always manages to make me laugh. I'm forever grateful that I decided to play my guitar, panhandling for money, in front of the Kohler's grocery store back in '08 and that, for some reason, he fell in love with that. :) He's by far the best thing that's ever happened to me.

OK, that's it! Enjoy these favs for now. More updates to come. :)

Richard Saves the Day

I had started writing a literary analysis for my young adult lit class tonight. Needless to say, after what feels like 25 years of college the following is an understatement: I AM SICK OF WRITING PAPERS!

Understanding my concern, Richard--my wonderful, caring, beautiful husband--decided to take over for me. Here is how the paper turned out:

(There is an intro, but it's long and I won't bore you.). . . . Now, for an author to create a young character with adult-like coping abilities doesn’t seem like a hard task, since the author is presumably an adult himself. He could draw on his experiences as an adult and simply infuse them into his brilliantly crafted young adult character. However, in the case of The Outsiders, a novel brimming with troubled young adults making mature adult-like decisions, the author’s ability to infuse her juvenile characters with adult wisdom seems unlikely. S.E. Hinton, the author of The Outsiders, was only a young adult herself when she put pen to paper and constructed the novel—one that would stand as a timestamp for young adult literature and is considered by many to be the first official young adult novel.

(This is the part where Richard takes over. It's pretty brilliant if you as me.)

Sometimes adults even like to read young adult novels. Even though they are too old, many adults are too immature to deal with real big-boy problems and find it fascinating that a young adult is able to deal with those problems. Its like hearing that Mozart played the piano at age five. Its shocking and fun to read.

Not only are the books fun to read but they are fun to eat. Eating a book helps one to literally internalize the material. Ancient tribes, coincidentally the ones that feel like cameras suck their souls out, feel that you cannot truly comprehend a book until it has been ingested. One fun project that can be done with students to help them see the benefit in ingesting literature is to have each student eat a book. After the book passes into the student’s stool have them fish out any words or phrases that remain intact and have them recompile them into an entirely new young adult novel of their very own. Many young adult novels have been “inspired” by such means. The series “Twilight” is a perfect example of this technique.

My husband is just the smartest, hottest thing since who knows what. :)

The Power of Whining

The wedding and honeymoon were fab. And by fab I mean FABULOUS! An absolute dream. Perfecto! I learned a lot in the process--about TBS (Traumatic Bridezilla Syndrome), the "lose weight, feel weak" stress diet, and making a commitment that may or may not be detrimental to your eternal happiness (I'm banking on the not-so-detrimental camp, because let's face it, Richard is the nicest person that's ever walked the streets of planet earth) But today I want to report on something of greater value that I learned: The Power of Whining!

The restaurant: The Blue Iguana in Park City, over priced and over decorated.
The weapon: Maui Maui fish salad and tacos, probably cooked sometime the week before and fried up in the microwave just before making their grand entrance on our plates.
The place: A tiny, tiny shabby table at the top of a dirty staircase. Other than Richard and myself, the restaurant was pretty much empty. From out tiny table we had a great view of the steaming kitchen below and an entire row of spacious, clean, empty tables underneath the glowing windows of the sun room. We asked the waitress if we could move to another table, pointing to the glorious sunbaked tables of goodness on the other side of the room. She moved us, alright. To a smaller table in a crampier location. Rude!

Maybe it was our ponchos and chacos. Maybe it was my lack of makeup and/or prada and gucci accessories. Maybe we didn't look like we deserved to be in Park City. But it was our honeymoon, dang it! And what Evelyn wants, Evelyn gets! *Bridzilla yalp*

After paying $50 for something worse than Del Taco at midnight, we drove off to our hotel feeling a bit ill. Ill from the food? Ill from the bill? Probably a little of both. My mind got a churnin' and I realized that we could have gone to Red Lobster for that much money. Red Lobster! The restaurant Richard and I can only dream of affording...one day, when we start selling off our internal organs. The restaurant with a golden ambiance emanating from it's beautiful lobster marquee. Oh, the coconut shrimp! The biscuits! The little lobster leg metal cracker thingy device! It is delightful and we love it--very, very, very much.

"Richard," I said, "turn the car around. We're going back. We're complaining."

A polite chat with the manager and ten minutes later we happily walked out of the dirty restaurant with a $40 gift certificate and a sense of empowerment. Who knew complaining could be so profitable?

We never, ever wanted to go back to the Park City Blue Iguana. But luckily for us there was another Blue Iguana in SLC where the food was heavenly and half the price. With our $40 dollar gift certificate we were able to get the most delectable assortment of appetizers, entrées, and desserts (try the flan--amazing!) We also ran into Richard's cousin...which was fun and not awkward at all. Ha ha. :)

Moral of Evelyn's ramblings? Whine your little hearts out my friends. No one, even frumpy looking weirdos with ponchos, deserves to get hosed by tourist town restaurants masquerading microwaved fished left-overs as fine dining. And eat at the Blue Iguana in SLC. It made my dear little heart sing!