Thanksgiving Post: Self Got Meme, You Got Meme, Let’s All Meme!

Self learned something else yesterday: the meaning of the word “Meme”. The best explanation comes from friend and fab blogger Kathleen:

161 Meme

I’ve been tagged by Larry Lehmer for the 161 Meme. He is the writer/journalist/blogger who writes

I know who Larry Lehmer is, and am a devoted reader of his blog. I didn’t know what a meme was, I called it a meem, but actually its pronounced Mimi, like my sister’s name (actually she goes by both Meem, and Mimi.

Anyway, I am supposed to write down the 6th sentence on page 161 of the book I am reading, and tag five bloggers. The idea is to keep this going.

I am currently reading “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho. I don’t often read fiction, because in my experience, real life is way stranger than fiction.

I had to read this book after I read biographical notes. A tropical writer in a fascist time of fear writes anyway. And so it goes like this.

Sentence 6 on Page 161 of “The Alchemist”.

“The boy could see now that he couldn’t do so if he placed stone upon stone for the rest of his life.”

Here’s self’s own meme: sentence 6 on Page 161 of J. M. Coetzee’s Youth (First, self has to say that over half of p. 161 is a continuation of a very very long paragraph that began on p. 160, and most of the paragraph is in the form of a question, until, that is, sentence 6 on p. 161):

On the Third Programme he has heard music, from the studios of Radio Cologne, music spliced together from electronic whoops and crackles and street noise and snippets of old recordings and fragments of speech.

And the five people self chooses to meme are:

Fellow Writer Chancelucky

Former student Chellis Ying

Fellow Viggo Mortensen fan Lavalady

Filipino pundit Manuel L. Quezon III (Luuuv the name)

Filipino poet Wendell Capili

Find of the Day: Williams Sonoma “Essentials of Roasting” (On Sale for $13.95 at Books Inc.)

Another thing self picked up in Mountain View (aside from the interesting fact that son was deeply, deeply disappointed that he did not grow up in a traditional American family), was a hardcover Williams Sonoma cookbook on the Essentials of Roasting, which self stumbled upon in Books, Inc., where self and son were browsing earlier this afternoon (Ah, at least self can pat herself on the back for having raised a kid who likes to hang out in bookstores — last summer, in Manhattan, son insisted on going to The Strand almost every day!)

The Williams Sonomoa cookbook, originally $34.95, had been reduced to $13.95. Which made it even cheaper than Rachael Ray’s 30-Minute Meals ($19.95)! And, what’s more, it had lots and lots of grrreat pictures, on almost every page! (As self has said so many times before, what’s a cookbook without pictures???)

OK, book has an absolutely yummy picture of golden baked chicken on the cover. And inside there are recipes for “Monkfish with Red Pepper Sauce” (Self has no idea what a monkfish is, and is pretty sure she’s never ordered one at a restaurant); “Lemon-Thyme Capon” (capon, for those blog readers who are deficient in food knowledge, is “a male chicken that has been castrated to produce a particularly plump bird with a generous amount of flavorful meat.” See, self learns something new every day! This definition came from self-same cookbook, what a find! Then, self starts to wondering if this effect would also apply to humans, but thought is too horrible to pursue. Once again I digress); and “Beef Tenderloin with Madeira Sauce.”

Must look up turkey roasting instructions.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers, stay tuned.

Night Before Thanksgiving: Having a Glass of Wine, La la la la

The son has arrived.

Yes, the one and only fruit of self’s loins is actually in the vicinity.

He is at this very moment with his dad indulging in the one must-do every time he visits: dinner at Colonel Lee’s Mongolian Barbecue in Mountain View.

This hallowed (if shabby) place was self’s first introduction to “cheap eats”, Stanford grad student style. And this place is still mobbed by Stanford students when in celebratory mood — like after winning the Big Game, for instance. Which, come to think of it, hasn’t happened in seven years. (But, once again, I digress)

But why is self not partaking of Colonel Lee’s fare with hubby and son? Why is she all alone in Redwood City, watching a Law & Order re-run (so delicious, Sam Waterston’s intelligent wrinkling of the brow– definitely no botox on that face) and sipping a glass of Chardonnay (She opened the bottle herself, one of those from hubby’s stash– she didn’t ask permission and she didn’t mangle the cork, hurrah!!!).

Son’s first question to self was what we were having for Thanksgiving dinner. To which self enthusiastically replied: Roast Prime Rib! Son’s only response was a frown and then silence. Which was deeply puzzling to self. Whereupon self inquired what was the matter, and son muttered something about “should have remembered we aren’t a traditional family.” @@!!##

Which remark had self sputtering and asking, “What do you mean? I mean, what exactly are you saying, son? I thought you loved prime rib!”

“Yeah, but it’s Thanksgiving,” son said. “Thanksgiving is for turkey.”

Good heavens! Son has been completely brainwashed by his Cal Poly evangelist friends! Help, help, help!

And then, after hubby has joined us, self suddenly remembers that Draeger’s is on her way home. And if she leaves Mountain View right this minute, she might even be able to snag the last cooked turkey in the deli. And so self rushes off without partaking of wondrous eat-all-you-can dinner at Colonel Lee’s. And she finds herself in absolute crush of people in Draeger’s. And all the deli plates are cleaned out (or almost all, self is rather prone to exaggeration). A homeless man is begging outside but self doesn’t even have time to pull a dollar from her wallet. And she decides to get the smallest uncooked turkey, and it’s a miracle that this turkey is so tiny it only costs $24 (The cooked version was $44). And she’ll have to figure out how to cook this darn thing tomorrow. But she is so happy that she quite enjoys looking at the Christmas lights they’ve already strung up on Santa Cruz Avenue.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers, stay tuned.

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