Falafel Quesadilla Post Globes Mix


-- चार हजार दो सौ छब्बीस --

I'm back from a relatively eventful weekend, although I'm not sure I have a huge amount of detail to tell about it. It was nice good few days, in any event.

I didn't go out on Friday evening, but Shobhit and I did do something new: we made falafel for dinner. There was a falafel mix amongst the stocking stuffers he gave me for Christmas, and he suggested we use it that evening. We went to Trader Joe's to get a few things including pita pockets, and once the meal was assembled with homemade tzaziki sauce and deep fried balls of falafel, we ate the rather heavy meal while watching TV.

The pitas had come in a five-pack, and I had two of them and Shobhit had three. Just one of those pitas with three falafel balls in it would have been more than enough for me, but it was so tasty I still ate the second one easily. Shobhit could only make it through two of this three and saved the third for later, although he still at the third later that evening.

-- चार हजार दो सौ छब्बीस --

Saturday, Shobhit and I had French toast made out of the cinnamon swirl bread sample loaf I forgot I had in my work desk drawer for a couple of weeks. This was the source of a nearly-huge fight we had late Saturday morning, as he constantly insists on putting both salt and pepper in the eggs used for the bread for French toast -- something that just isn't done, particularly the pepper, but Shobhit constantly insists that it should be. It drives me fucking crazy.

And there's a clearly easy compromise here: just let me put my slices in the eggs the way I like them, and then he can salt and pepper his to his heart's content. Why can he not see this as a simple solution? He went ahead and sprinkled salt onto the eggs in the bowl even after I made it very clear I did not want it. He went right to putting pepper in too, and I just snapped, and flipped out even without regard to Ivan still being in bed in his bedroom: "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!," I said, quite loudly. I can't even tell you how infuriated I was, this felt like such blatant disrespect. I said it again as I walked to the bedroom, practically shaking: "Fuck!" I briefly considered leaving right then and there, and just going to a restaurant by myself so I could actually get my breakfast the way I wanted it.

In the middle of this, Shobhit told me he stopped at the last second, and did not put pepper on the eggs after all. Why the fuck would I want pepper on a sweet breakfast dish he knows full well I put syrup on (like any normal American does, which Shobhit insists is weird, which is frankly weirdly and backwardly ignorant for an immigrant in his position)? If he wants to put pepper on his, that's fine; there's literally no reason whatsoever to force it on me.

In the immediate aftermath of this, Shobhit asked that I use regular bread instead the sweeter cinnamon swirl I had, for his French toast; when I was done with mine, there was only a tiny bit of the eggs left, and I was totally willing then to use more eggs and add pepper to it for him. He chose instead to just have one slice using the very last of the eggs I had left, which I did still add pepper to. And for much of the rest of the day, later, he was very contrite and sweet -- kind of his MO in scenarios like this.

I learned later in the evening that Ivan did indeed overhear this, and asked me while Shobhit was gone why I'd been "screaming." He wasn't annoyed, but rather eager for details -- he delights in witnessing Shobhit's and my petty arguments. I will say, though, that when I told Ivan Shobhit wanted to put pepper on the French toast, his response was: "Ew!" Exactly.

The whole thing was actually pretty brief, but holy shit, I was infuriated, like I've rarely been with him before -- because, in this instance, he was knowingly and completely deliberately discarding my wishes, which any sane person would know was a dick move if there ever was one. But, as always, once the moment subsided, things got better fairly quickly.

-- चार हजार दो सौ छब्बीस --

The entire series of Harry Potter movies recently became available on HBO Go, and Shobhit burned through them all in just a few days, finishing on Saturday. I watched parts of Deathly Hallows with him. I decided to walk the hour to Peso's Kitchen for dinner with Evan and Elden on Lower Queen Anne, though, which meant I was to leave by 4:30, to arrive there by 5:30. It was a nice and pleasant dinner, and the $6 three cheese quesadilla with Yakima sweet onion and pine nuts from the starter menu was stupendous. Also a nice balance, being a cheap plate, for the two $12 Ultimate Margaritas I had. (Evan and Elden each had one, but they also had regular plates -- Elden's nachos looking good enough that I want to get that the next time I go there.)

We then walked the half block from there to the Uptown to see I, Tonya -- my second time and their first, but my first in a movie theatre. It was just as good the second time and I insist it's a very good film.

-- चार हजार दो सौ छब्बीस --


-- चार हजार दो सौ छब्बीस --

The reason I was home alone for a bit once I got back was that Shobhit, having decided not to join us for dinner, decided to take himself to C.C. Attle's and The Eagle instead. He also had some of the edibles from home before leaving, and took too much; when he got home he passed out on the love seat and when I woke up an hour or two after I went to bed -- I went out to wake him up and tell him he should come to bed. He told me the next morning after I asked if he'd had a lot to drink (I assumed so since he fell asleep in the living room right after getting home) and he said yes, but also the too much of the edibles -- he thinks maybe 12 mg of THC-worth. He said he didn’t have that great a time at The Eagle because he spent about an hour trying not to throw up. Fun!

Ivan, as it happened, got back from wherever he went within ten or fifteen minutes of Shobhit getting back -- he must have seen Shobhit snoozing on the love seat he's usually sitting on himself when he's at home and in the living room. He had left after I got home myself, and when I got nosy and asked where he was going he just said, "Oh, for a stroll in the moonlight." He was clearly being evasive and I could smell his cologne; I'm pretty convinced he went out for a hookup.

Ivan broke up with Drew over the weekend, so, Drew's history already, I guess. He told Shobhit on Friday he was thinking about it, which Shobhit texted me; Ivan even messaged me himself the same day that he was trying to decide. As of Friday evening he was still saying he planned to go stay the night with Drew in Port Orchard on Saturday; by Saturday morning when I asked him what time he was going, he said he wasn't going and that he already broke up with him. He does still want to be friends, he said -- in fact, that was how he did it: merely by sending him a message (in all likelihood, Facebook Messenger), and beginning with "I think we should just be friends." He made it sound like Drew took it surprisingly well, but I was still open about feeling that was kind of a shitty way to go about it. Ivan later said, "I don't like talking on the phone." Who does? Still, I said, "That's not relevant at all." He just sort of giggled. Honestly, I feel bad for Drew -- it was long clear he was much more enamored with Ivan than the other way around, and Ivan was kind of keeping this fling they both knew would be brief going out of convenience. Ivan always had "zero interest" in spending time "in Bumfuck" (Port Orchard) and I suspect he used the timing of this partly as simple means of getting out of that.

In any case, I get the feeling now that Ivan has wasted no time in shifting his focus when it comes to hookups, although so far, to my knowledge, he hasn't brought any more home. I feel like there's a 50/50 chance it will happen again at all before he leaves, now that he'll be gone in barely more than another month. I do wish for his sake that he could find someone to be with long term, but his short term plans over the next few months don't really allow for it anyway.

-- चार हजार दो सौ छब्बीस --

I didn't see Ivan yesterday until well into the evening; when he came back and I said, "Where have you been all day?" he just said, "Oh, nowhere" -- although he did tell me he went to see Star Wars finally. He had been planning to on Saturday and then changed his mind; when I asked why he said, "Because I'm a flake!" Without missing a beat I said, "That, you are." Anyway, he saw it in 4DX, which I think is nuts -- apparently by himself, even -- but he said he enjoyed it.

I left relatively early at 10:30 a.m. to meet with Laney at Light Rail and then go downtown to see the very good movie The Post at Pacific Place. We saw the 11:25 a.m. showing and, since it was before noon, tickets were only six and a half bucks. We agreed we should make an effort to see shows at that early ticket price more often, especially as she's been tightening her belt in anticipation of early-ish retirement in a few years.

Laney and I took Light Rail back up to Capitol Hill after the movie, which was kind of long. And then I decided on a brief stint over at Steamworks. Why should I be the only one who didn't go out for a good time this weekend, that was not either dinner or a movie? (I had no idea whether Shobhit would wind up hooking up with anyone Saturday night, although in the end it sounded like he didn't.) I was in and out of there within an hour, the most astonishing thing being that's been the case my last three times in a row there now.

That was usefully efficient, as it got me home in plenty of time, both to write the movie review, and then to watch the Golden Globe Awards, which was what we spent the majority of the evening doing. I messaged Ivan when Allison Janney won for I, Tonya, which made him happy; he got home when the ceremony was about two thirds over, and we were both kind of disappointed that Margot Robbie did not win -- but, also both fine with Saoirse Ronan winning for Lady Bird. Not that it really matters that much, when the Hollywood Foreign Press Association's voting body is something like only a hundred people and there is no overlap with the Academy Award voters (as opposed to, say, the SAG Awards, with which there is massive overlap -- so those wins are far more predictive of Oscars).

Shobhit made some chai for all three of us after that, and we watched a couple episodes of The Golden Girls before I went to bed.

Didn't I start this by saying I wasn't going to share a lot of detail? I guess I lied. It is slightly fewer details than I often end up writing after an eventful weekend, though. So there's that.

-- चार हजार दो सौ छब्बीस --


[posted 12:20 pm]