Molly, Roses, Calf Slober and Wicked

We've been working on our front flower bed and front porch to get it ready for the summer season, and Molly helped me prune some flowers last Tuesday. I love that pic of her; she looks so sweet. I have been frantically trying to prune my paper as well, and make it as coherent as possible. I am seriously doubting it is going to work, but maybe with some editing and rhetorical weed pulling, I can fix it.
Also, last night, Mike took me to see Wicked at Fair Park. I had a funny Lyla Tucker moment. Who is Lyla Tucker? I am not going to give the actual name, Lyla Tucker is a psudeonym. I am from a small town. A very small town. So, I have stories that go on forever, and frequently, even though I have left that small town, the people and stories live inside of me and come up at the funniest times.


When I was in 8th grade, my church took a Ski trip to Sante Fe New Mexico. Ritzy
town, Ritzy ski slope. I loved skiing. Anyway, a local from the town where I grew up, Bowie, came on the trip with us. She talked with a heavy, heavy Texas accent. So, basically didn't see her very much on the slopes. I had convinced a ski instructor that I was a freshman at the University of Texas. (That is a whole other blog. Some of you may not know that I was wild when I was young!) Anyway I decided to take a break from skiing and hitting on the ski instructor and go into a cafe and get some hot chocolate. The coffee bar was upscale, and with your hot chocolate, you received froth on top. It was beautiful. I felt so elegant. So cool. So much like a freshman at the university of Texas in Austin. Then my friend Lyla walks up to the bar and asks me what I am drinking. I tell her hot chocolate. The barrista then asks what she wants to drink. She tells him, I want a hot chocolate too, minus the calf slober. I do a double take. What? Oh my gosh. I am outed as a hick who obviously is no where near UT Austin.

Fast forward about twenty years. Mike has bought us tickets to go to Wicked in Fair Park. He knows I like sushi. I've had california rolls, that counts as sushi, right? He take me to a Zagat rated sushi place in Los Colinas. The atmosphere is so sheik. We are dressed to the nines, and I am actually managing what feels like strut in high heels. There are men executing with knives maneuvers I am sure elude even the most skilled surgeon. I am feeling cool. I tell Mike to order for us. He suggests the Ahi tower. That sounds fabulous to start with. I am now not a stay at home mom, but a New Yorker who is headed to an award winning musical. And then, a waitress brings out a tower of Ahi tuna and rice that looks like it belongs in an art museum, with wasabi sauce placed in a very modern scribble on the side. She asks if we'd like her to mix it. We say sure. She then proceedes to take out a fork and mash it like it is a can of cat food. She is mashing in three different colors of round semi-transparant caviar. Red, green and black. I am trying very hard not to vomit. She leaves us an unappetizing mess of food that literally doesn't look fit for consumption. I look at Mike skeptically. He is smiling expectantly. What the ???? I taste the tuna with my fabulous chop sticks. I feel a popping in my mouth. Its the caviar. (I will never call it caviar again. It is fish eggs. And, it tastes like fish eggs and not Caviar!And, in Bowie Texas, this "caviar" counts as bait!.) I ask Mike if he can feel the fish eggs popping in his mouth. Caviar? he asks. Whatever I say. He says no, but then I see his face disfigure a bit. Thanks, now I notice it, he says. I am next to order. I order Kobe Beef. I am excited. Kobe beef is exotic, expensive and definitely does not contain any fish eggs. They brought it out raw. WE are supposed to cook it on a stone. The same waitress with the excellent technique for mixing Ahi Towers informs me that I am only to cook it for an instant. It is best rare. You mean raw? GAG! AFter we left the restaurant, Mike looked defeated as I devoured some peanuts he had left over from his flight to Margaritaville last weekend. I tell him I will need to stop and get a cheeseburger and fries from McDonald's. And, next time he wants to take me to dinner, I will take Chicken Fried STeak, mashed potatoes, and creamed corn from Babes or the Dixie House Cafe with coconut cream pie for dessert. I'll leave the Ahi Tower to the more elegant city dwellers. You see, I, unlike Lyla, prefer my hot chocolate like my coffee, wiht lots of calf slober. But, I am sure that Lyla and I would agree: we both prefer our beef cooked, our sushi without fish eggs (bait!), with lots of wasabie and soy sauce and ginger, and our Ahi Towers unmolested or not at all! I couldn't help but laugh, though, as Mike looked at me just like I looked at Lyla. Ahh, small towns. I love them.
And, Wicked was amazing! The leads for the roles had amazing voices. It was a fun night out, but we didn't get home until midnight. Thanks nana for babysitting.