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All responses Most smiled responses
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Sunny and coolish. 70 degrees is plenty. When I was in San Francisco last month, I LOVED it. Perfect, perfect weather.
You can take the temperature up or down a little, but the sun is not negotiable. I really am solar powered, and my mood and energy levels correlate almost precisely to the amount of sunshine. -
Well, apparently I have noticed that he is attractive. Then I notice that he is across the room. My laziness renders any further noticing moot.
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18 stone, not counting snow. In the summer, 18 stone.
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Yes! It's a date.
As for the lack of clothing, there usually comes a point in the evening when Simone demands to be stripped of her vestments. "SHUHT! SHUUUUT!!" she will say, tugging at it crossly, and we have found that it is unwise to deny her request. -
Counterclockwise, THEN clockwise, obviously. I'm no fool.
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No! He is the manager! Gracious!
He went to school to be a chef, and had an internship at LBV, and then discovered he was excellent at the front of the house, and liked it, and next thing I knew he was the host and then the manager, and now I get the surreal experience of hearing rich people at nearby tables say things like "Oh, we'll ask Max, he always knows which wine to pair with confit of goldleaf!"
Which he does. He also wears grown-up things like cufflinks, and writes a delightful column for a local magazine, and appreciates the hell out of my puns. (He is a much better writer than me in many ways, as he doesn't go skittering off on tangents. Like this one.) Think how brilliant he'd be if I HADN'T dropped him on his head as a baby! -
Well, I am legally obligated (not really) to plug my brother's restaurant La Belle Vie. But even if I weren't (fictitiously) law-bound to say so, I love it there. The food is, I feel, the best in the cities, yet the atmosphere (I am speaking of the lounge. I prefer it over the dining room) is still cozy. I like a good tasting menu, and they will split the wine pairings between two people if you ask (because otherwise I find the food/wine ratio improper.
Also,a tip: they bring you a little cocktail menu in the lounge, but you should know there is a FULL cocktail menu you can ask for as well. Don't settle.
My CURRENT favorite place to eat would have to be Barrio in St. Paul. The Mpls. location is too littered with hipsters for my taste, but St. Paul is just right, especially for happy hour, which is dirt cheap and delicious, particularly the BBQ pork sopas, the corn and poblano soup, and the queso fundito. They have 125 tequilas! Also? Margaritas with ancho chili, and another with passion fruit and red pepper. SO good. And yes, it is run by the same co. as LBV, but that is not why I chose it. Anyway, unlike LBV, at Barrio I don't have the fun of seeing my baby brother in a suit.
I also like Origami for sushi, and 112, and the Bar at the St. Paul Grill for sidecars and peppered shrimp and tiny tenderloin sandwiches, and a million other places. Mango Thai, on Selby, is delicious. If I don't stop now I never will. -
Maybe. I believe it is a very long flight, which unnerves me, but I suppose that is what sedation/business class is for.
I know almost nothing about Australia, but it intrigues me, ever since the movie my mother and I rented once that was described (and started out) as a perfectly ordinary romantic comedy, but...well, what the description failed to mention (Really. No mention at all! Not even a hint!) was that the male lead TURNS INTO A FISH. A fish! With gills!
In a way, Netflix and such are depriving us of valuable insights into other cultures, because I have always maintained that you can learn a lot about a country by reading the cases of its rentable movies. For instance, my mother and I once found a French movie that proclaimed itself to be "Erotic fun for the whole family!" See? -
As I have often said, I like the cold. Cold makes your mind sharp, LIKE ICICLE. But if you aren't used to a Northern winter, there are a few things you might want to do to prepare:
1. Gloves/mittens--lots of them. Many, many pair, because you will lose them, and a cold steering wheel is dreadful.
2. Heels for ice. It sounds counterintuitive, but heels can be helpful in icy conditions, because you use them like little picks. Or at least I do. The worst shoes for a Midwestern winter are wedges, obviously.
3. Moisturize. You think you have had dry skin before? No. You haven't. You need lipbalm, aquaphor, and really excellent face cream. Shaving your legs often keeps them from getting reptilian (because it exfoliates).
4. Coats lined with Thinsulate (JCrew makes them). Flannel sheets and down pillowcases. Stew. Wool/cashmere. Remember than jeans freeze and feel cold on your legs. Always carry a compact to touch up your red nose. Better yet, stay inside, like I do! It's nice in here, and you can wear cozy housepants.
I am not making this sound very appealing, am I? It is actually not so bad. A walk in the cold is bracing and clears your head, and the weird nighttime snowlight is beautiful. And you will never appreciate spring more than you do after winter, here. It is like falling in love for the first time, every March. -
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Well, yes. We have discussed this, because of her obvious love for them. Not until we have a house, though. God only knows how I managed to birth a DOG person, being about as far cat-wards as possible on the cat/dog person spectrum. But I did love a dog once, my beloved Sophie, and if I could find another dog like her (probably some type of spaniel-y mutt)...well. Sophie and I were so much alike that my first boyfriend found it creepy. Apparently we both sighed a lot in the same way, and we both had big eyes, and problems with anxiety, and were both on medicine for our acidic stomachs. She almost never barked (the barking is what I cannpt abide about dogs. It frays my nerves. Also the smell and the slobber. And the jumping up on me). Sophie was quiet and happy and loyal. She loved to ride in my car, and I taught her the command "Sit for safety!" (which she did). The other command I taught her was "Receiving Line," at which she would (sitting) extend a paw to be kissed/shaken. She would have done well at a state dinner. There are very few dogs you can say that about.
Ideally, petwise, I like a doggish cat. My first cat, Claude (RIP) came when called, waited by the door for me to come home, wagged his tail when I finally did, and rode around on my shoulder, like a parrot. Claude was very talkative. He was a Devon Rex, a breed I adore, but they seem prone to health problems, as my first two (Claude and Frances died very young).
(Good god, I am terrible at staying on topic, aren't I?) -
I would definitely consider it, if I found the right neighborhood. I lived in Northeast until I was 8.
I find Minneapolis driving incredibly stressful, though. I'm not much of a driver and would frankly prefer a city with trains. Lots of the most walkable neighborhoods in Minneapolis are either expensive, or busy traffic clusterfucks. When I was younger, I couldn't imagine why anyone lived anywhere other than Uptown, if they were unfortunate enough to live in the excruciatingly dull Twin Cities in the first place.
Apparently my tastes have matured. There is something about St. Paul, particularly my neighborhood (Cathedral Hill) that just seems like home. There is something about it that I can't put my finger on but like very much. Of course living here means putting up with the CONSTANT St. Paul bashing, and the bizarre, whiny refusal of some Minneapolis residents to cross the river (meaning WE always have to go to THEM). St. Paul is the Brooklyn of the Twin Cities, (Minneapolis being the Manhattan) for those of you who don't know. (Of course the secret truth of that scenario is that BROOKLYN/ST. PAUL IS ACTUALLY AWESOME.) -
Simone's favorite food is imaginary soup, so I am not sure I can help you with the palate expanding, unless you meant expanding it beyond the realm of the real (in which case imaginary tea is another popular choice).
Simone does not cleave to my narrow, restrictive, bourgeois definition of food, and will turn away from whatever I place before her to ladle more invisible beef goddamn bourguignon into her mouth while making exaggerated "MMMMM!" sounds. The exception is blueberries. She loves the little bastards. -
Yes. Improbable, even. So much so that this question startled me. ("Oh, that's right! How exciting!")
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Well, my continuing goal is to make them worth that money. Which is made slightly easier by the fact that Amazon has Half Baked on sale for 32% off at the moment. So it can be 32% less well-written than it had to be before, I assume. A tremendous relief!
(Those of you who pre-order should know, and probably already do, that if the price goes down after you have ordered but before the book ships in August, you will only charged the amount of the lowest price to be in effect between your order and shipment). -
This is an excellent question that deserves further study. My guess is something they put in the culture medium at our IVF clinic, but it could be the tremendous amount of James Brown I played for her in utero. We may never know the answer.
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Of course we can. Some of my best friends wear necklaces over turtlenecks! (Actually I haven't seen them do this, but they could! And I would be totally fine with it!)
I'm not sure why it unnerves me so. I once saw someone wearing a large statement-y necklace over a thin black turtleneck and it looked quite nice, in a late-fifties modern bohemian sort of way. But usually I see it with regular necklaces, pendants on chains and such, and it bothers me.
Of course I am known to be easily bothered. -
I keep trying to think of something less cheesy, but the truth is that the thing that has surprised me most is how much it continues to surprise me. I don't know if that even makes sense, but I mean it.
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Alexa Stevenson’s Bio
I write things.
