Florence, Day 1: Uffizi

I would love to post some of the awesome pictures I took in the Uffizi. Unfortunately, the pictures Nazis at the gallery don't let you take any pictures, so I don't actually have any. And, because Google senses that I'm in Italy and automatically assumes that I speak Italian, I'm even having a tough time Googling up some pictures that other people have taken.

Edit: Well, I'm finally back, so I can look up images of things that I saw and would have taken pictures of if I could.

Hi, I'm perspective, have we met?


Giotto. In just a few short years, Renaissance man discovered the third dimension. There was much rejoicing.


It isn't clear in the picture, but words are shooting out of the angel's mouth at Mary. Sunday morning comics are just around the corner.


The right side of the duke's face was badly scarred during a tournament. It is convenient that his wife had something wrong with the left side of hers, such that they would be painted in this symmetric way.


Botticelli.

and


Leonardo da Vinci.


Medici Venus.


Before I left for Italy, I spent a little bit of time on Wikipedia, reading about the restoration of the Sistine Chapel. So, I walk into a room in the Uffizi, look up and see this, and think to myself Wow, that looks an awful lot like the Sistine Chapel. Weird. Surprise, it is one of the few paintings by Michelangelo.


Raphael.

and

and a self-portrait.


Titian.


Parmigianino. Boy, does she ever have a long neck!

In Italy

Hey, I'm Italy. For those that know me, this is probably something of a surprise, as I am usually reluctant to leave my house for any great length of time. Work decided to send me over here to learn about something-or-other, though, so I'm taking the opportunity to do some sightseeing.

Obviously, it has been quite a while since I've blogged, and I haven't even managed to get all my posts copied over from my old blog, so it is quite save (and probably recommended) to ignore everything earlier than this post.

On Getting Old...

I was walking through Target today and I realized something that I found to be somewhat disturbing.

Not too many years ago, when I saw an attractive woman walking through the store with a kid in tow, I would think to myself, "Wow, that chick is really hot... for a mom."

Nowadays, when I see an attractive woman walking through the store with a kid in tow, I think to myself, "Wow, that chick is really hot."

Also, I apparently use works like "nowadays".

It seems to me that being twenty-five-years-old is not what it was five years ago.

Fuck Lost

Ya, that's right. Last week's episode was so lame, I took Lost off my Tivo. I mean, how many Locke flashbacks are we going to have that make you think here is where we find out about Locke's legs and then not show you anything about Locke's legs? Yes, we get it. Locke is hungry for affection and acceptance but people he thinks care about him keep fucking him over. What happened to Locke's legs? is just about the only major flashback mystery left, but each show is still 60% flashbacks, all of which just re-hash old themes or introduce new, completely irrelevant details. I think that the show's writers are actually making fun of the viewers at this point.

The on-island plot was equally worthless. A vicious polar bear drags Mr Eko off to its cave but doesn't eat him or even appear to do any serious injury? Locke is struck mute until he rescues Mr. Eko? Locke and Desmond are psychic now?

The final straw was this week's Battlestar Galactica. The show was so fucking awesome that it really drove home how disappointing Lost has become.

I''m also getting a little annoyed with Gilmore Girls. I mean, how fickle can Lorelai be?

Review: Hundred Acres Manor

I went to Hundred Acres Manor with the SupplyScan team last night. It has been forever since I've been to a haunted house, so I'm not sure that I'm the best judge, but I thought it was pretty damn fun. I spent the whole time huddled between Dana/Mark and Grant/Jullie. (I refused to take the lead since I was "bachin'' it" and didn''t have anyone to cling to.)

There was a maze, lots of strobe lights, lots of darkness, lots of things hanging from the ceiling and lots of people jumping out of dark corners and screaming. Pretty much everything you could ask for from a haunted house, I guess.

First Dinner Party: Awesome

I had my very first non-family dinner party last night. Everything was, if I do say so myself, pretty awesome. We had butternut squash soup with cinnamon croutons, cornbread with herb-butter and herb-stuffed pork loin with vegetables for dinner. And then creme brulee for dessert. Jenny brought sangria and other people brought wine, so there was no shortage of alcohol.

My dining room has ambiance: the new Tudor table*, the silver goblets, the candle chandelier (with real candles!). The only problem was that my lack of dinnerware (which I'm working to resolve) meant that we had to eat off of paper plates (but at least they were nice paper plates). It was pretty damn snazzy and I like to think that the couples in attendance got seriously laid that night. (But don't worry guys, I''m not thinking about it in any great detail.)

Biggest surprise was that, towards the beginning of dinner, Kate (Brad's fiancee) offered to hook me up with one of her friends and then, after experiencing several hours of me being drunk and obnoxious, actually decided to go through with it. In my opinion, it demonstrates a severe lack of judgment on her part, but I'm certainly not going to complain about it.

It was a lot of fun and I'm definitely going to do it again soon. So, co-workers, start jockeying for position now!

* Yes, it took me 4 years of owning a home before I got a dining room table that wasn't made out of plastic.

Things to Eat In Houston When You're Hungry

Well, I'm back from Houston. The trip was generally uneventful -- at least in comparison to some of the other customer upgrades that I've been on -- which is a good thing.

On Monday, we went to eat at Fogo de Chao (uh, just imagine that there is a little squiggle above that a there). The food was great, the service was great, the price was exorbitant. At $46 a plate, I felt it was my duty to get the company's money's worth. I made a valiant effort, but even with bacon-wrapped filet mignon and lamb chops literally backed up into my esophagus, I''m not sure that I really succeeded. If any restaurant needed a vomitorium, it is this one.

I only had one glass of wine, so there is no way I was hungover the next morning. But I damn sure felt like it. I think I might have gotten steak poisoning. Based on the hair of the dog that bit you theory of hangover treatment, I went to IHOP and got a giant steak omelet to get rid of my "steak poisoning". Surprisingly, it seemed to work.

Tuesday, we were stuck at the hospital, so it was just Pizza Hut delivery.

Wednesday, we went to Pappadeaux. When I was in Houston a few years ago, we went here, and I've spent the last 3 years longing for their creme brulee. (At the time, I thought it was so good that I drove back there again the next night, just for dessert.) As with so many things that we fantasize about for so long, the reality was rather disappointing. I had never had creme brulee at that time, so I didn't really have anything to compare it to. Now that I do have something to compare it to (mine!), I realize that it wasn't that great. That didn't stop me from eating mine of course. But it did stop me from finishing Jenny's after she ate all the fruit and brulee off. Well, okay, it stopped me from finishing all of it.