"One more time and I'll staple yer head to the wall!"
- Me to a Co-Worker
 
My finger is healing slowly.  It's odd having no feeling whatsoever at the tip of my finger, but it's coming back gradually. It's starting to itch, actually and that's pissing me off.  Honestly though, what DOESN'T piss me off?
 
I helped Baxter and his wife move to their new apartment Monday then we had dinner here at my place. I whipped up some nicely grilled pork chops with sides of baby romane, lemon pepper zucchini, and linguni with a tomato concasse. Plus I even went so far as to do a nice lavender garnish on the brim of the plate. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was "on the clock". I was hauling ass and I pulled of a delicate AND powerful meal for 5. Baxter, his wife, Patrick and the "cute friend" Sarah. When it was all said and done, we finished off the cookies and canolis from Little Italy and had Turkish coffee and Port. We even busted out the cloves and all was good with the universe.
 
Being that Baxter doesn't have access to a kitchen right now, I offered to make him and his wife dinner again last night. When I got home from work, I dropped off my bag and knives and headed over to Cohen and Cook and then over to the Market for provisions. I made a nice Ragu (Homemade meat sauce) with Rigatoni, fresh baked focaccia, grilled eggplant and peppers over tossed greens, and a nice cream anglaise over croissants for dessert. More Turkish coffee, and more of me trying to figure out this Sarah girl.
 
In the meantime, I've been listening to a lot of Wu-Tang Clan and Donovan, Dean Martin and Bent, Daft Punk and Philip Glass. I'm all over the place, trying to figure out what I want out of life. I want a girlfriend, and I want to cook. I want to make techno music, but I want to be whinny-artsy-emo so all the art-kids will dig me. I "want" and very rarely give thought to "giving". Funny how that works, huh?
 
Tonight I had dinner at SamB's. They have a really good grilled Italian sandwich on herbed focaccia there. I packed that away with a shot of Glen Livet and a little quality time with my favorite author, Anthony Bourdain. That got me going. It was one of my "culinary" moments, so to speak. I started thinking about Saturday and that my brother and I are going out for a few hours. I'm thinking that I might just drag him through every restaurant over Hell's Half Acre and make him take lots of pictures of me eating Tapas and drinking coffee and smoking cigars and getting, you know... drunk. It's probably a better idea on the blog than it is in real life, but hey - You might just get a pic of me puking in a trashcan in Ann Arbor.
 
No, you won't...
 
 
Yeah...
 
 
No...
 
 
(Nodding head "Yes".)
 
 
"I'd fallen in with -as I always do- with a bad crowd, a loosely knit bunch of carnivorous, brainy, gun-toting, coke-sniffing, pill-popping, manic-depressives, most of them slightly older and much more experienced than I was at Seventeen."
- Anthony Bourdain
"You know what's funny? Chasing the Dog with the Vibrator..."
- Surly Bob
"Way down, below the ocean... That's where I want to be..."
- From "Atlantis" by Donovan
 
 

"All that's left for me now is to become the town's biggest drunk..."
- Bart Simpson
"Talkin' about it's not gonna get you there..."
- Homer Simpson

I cut myself this week. And not just a little cut either. It's not nearly as bad as the cut I got the day before Christmas Eve (1998) but it's a doozy. Middle finger, left hand... Fitting, huh? Yeah, well... There is no feeling in the tip of my finger. I cut off half of my fingernail and a chunk of skin about the size of a dime. I was chopping onions and I looked up for a split second to tell one of my co-workers to go "fuck themselves" and I Felt it. Cutting yourself with a chefs knife is an interesting feeling. Clean, quick, and even... I had spent a good ten minutes sharpening the blade (To the song 'The Joker' by the Steve Miller band, none the less!) and in less than a Moment it happened. I immediately freeked out. It's a deep one, almost to the bone. We taped it back together and put lots of healing gel on it, but it's still bothering me. It's bothering me emotionally. Like I said, my whole finger is numb, and aside from the searing hot pain in the rest of my hand, it's just "a cut". But it's the second time in a four day time-span that I had cut myself, and it was in the exact same place almost, except the second time I went for the glory.

The whole week has been me babying this thing. I cut myself Tuesday and had to gimp around all week. Plus, it didn't stop bleeding till just yesterday. Everything I bumped it or moved my hand it opened right back up.

On a lighter note, I went and saw Spiderman 2 and I have to say I'm impressed. Not so much with the idea of a great action movie, but the story and the acting is great. Alfred Molina is a pimp, hands down. The guy is really dynamic and brings the "tortured but fuck-crazy" thing into a whole new light. Plus I like seeing good people go bad - REAL bad. It's interesting to see him as such a wonderful person who cares about people and saving the world, then to just snap. Plus there is a GREAT Evil Dead homage in SP2. I definitely recommend this one.

"Peter, you can't keep something as complicated as 'love' all bundled up inside. It'll make you sick..." - Alfred Molina

I also saw Fahrenheit 9/11 again. Baxter, his wife and their cute friend Sarah and I went and saw it as the Clazel. That movie is impressive. I don't necessarily agree with all of it, but it's a very relevant film - especially here and now.

Speaking of Baxter, he and I made it to Little Italy and I got a dozen of the Lemon Biscotti cookies from Corrbos. (Sigh) They are, for lack of better description, heavenly. The whole trip was amazing, actually. We hit the Mayfield Cafe, Presti's, Corrbo's, and some little trattoria with a garden in the back. I had a garlic-lemon chicken and it was great. We had canolis at Presti's, cigars and whiskey at the Mayfield, and an hour of Bocci at the local Bocci Courts. That was the high point of my week. Kind of a post-Birthday present to myself. I love Little Italy, and if I had to pick one good thing that came of dating Hannah, it's that I was introduced to that small Italian neighborhood.

So now I'm just chilling out. The week is over and I get Sunday off to rest up. I had Myles for dinner tonight (A thick pepperoni pie) and ran through my stacks of vinyl thinking about my new mix and who I want to impress with it. In the meantime I've been listening to a lot of Dilated Peoples, Bobby Darin, De La Soul, and Johnny Cash. (We listened to Folsom Prison this morning at work) Music is the key to my sanity right now. I'm listening to a lot of downtempo stuff and reading a lot of DH Lawrence and Pablo Neruda. I'm kind of lost and frustrated being "cut up" and all, but with a little time I'll bounce back I suspect. Like De La Soul says: Honey, Honey, Honey - I'm keeping the faith...

"So, what Jay... Do you want 'Pity' or something?!!?"
- Surley Bob, to me after bandaging my wound
"No, no, no... I'm just going to go the Whinny Liberal route and force my personal trauma on all of you, call it 'making you aware' and if you disagree with ANYTHING I say I'll call you a 'close-minded-right-wing-bigot'. Deal?"
- Me in response

"Fuck you ya French Fuck..."
- Bartender at the Mayfield Cafe
"This is Jimmy Scarpelli, who's diss?!!?"
- A guy answering the phone at the Mayfield Cafe
"Number 2: Launder more money. NOW!"
- From the To-Do list of Toledo native and convicted financier Marty Frankel
"Make a Fuckin' wish!"
- Surley Bob as he set my Birthday Burger on fire