3 days until moving,

Who wants to cook when your kitchen has been packed into boxes? Moving in 3 days calls for Wegmans Sushi, miso soup, and a six pack of Sierra Nevada Torpedo Extra IPA. Fishy Omega-3 fatty acids for the brain power you need to organize, and beer to lube the reminiscent cleansing of an apartment you've lived in for 3 years.

It's strange how you finally appreciate the white of the walls when you are deconstructing a home and you experience one last Era. The light seems brighter, the air smells clean and organized. You notice a bird's call, native to your neighborhood, for the first time.

You are poised for movement.



For some reason, all this stress about moving gets me laughing hysterically at the weirdest things.

For example:

(the cleverness is just too much)

Remember when we went to London in May 2009 with Robby, and we went to the Tate Modern?

this piece is quite reminiscent
of my most philosophical thoughts

Stress is odd.

 I must admit--I like it at times.

I'm ashamed.

I'm ashamed because we went to the Tap and Mallet tonight, intending to take photos of our beers and meals, and Geoffrey was going to write a blog entry about it, but I only managed to take pictures of our beers.

They dimmed the lights not 30 seconds before we got our beautiful beers, and my resulting pictures feel juvenile. I took a few minutes composing each, and felt sheepish when the waiter approached while I had my camera out.

Some blogger I am.

Anyways, I had a classic Scotch Ale, which is always amazing. Deep, caramel tones whisk me away, and on a hot summer night, I can barely move after a single glass. When it's cold out, I can drink two. Definitely my favorite beer, and it's clear that the Tap and Mallet knows how to store their beers; it tasted garden fresh. There's really nothing like a scotch ale on tap.

Since Geoffrey is too distractable and mad at me for the lack of dinner photos, I guess I'll have to write about his beer for him. I can't even remember the name of it! Oh the shame he'll endure when he sees this. It was a crisp, sharp IPA with a rich, skunky smell to it. I had more than my fair share of sips, and it was really incredible. A mellow, sweet IPA--perfect with his rich, meaty meal.
Geoffrey Loves a good India Pale Ale, and I love him for it, and love myself a good IPA too. When I'm feeling romantic, I might even say it's "our beer."
IPAs are so different than your standard sweet and smooth beer. The flowery and bitter flavor is unmatched by any beverage I have otherwise tasted. The flavor cuts through the grime of the day, leaving you feeling well scrubbed.

Comparable to an IPA is the Italian Chinotto soda. If you are into bitter flavors or just want to feel cool, I recommend trying it. When you consume something bitter, you must hold it on the middle of your tongue to the roof of your mouth, and open up your sinuses. If you take it in like a candy or soda (quick and fast across the tongue) you will never be able to appreciate the way bitter flavors encapsulate the most rewarding sugary tones.

For dinner, I had my Tap and Mallet standard--the Black Bean Wrap. I generally feel more poetic about beer, but this is a Good wrap. It's entirely fresh (no soggy lettuce or limp tortillas) with pico de gallo and a whole lot of cilantro. I plow through the plate in a short amount of time, as I am usually starving when we get there.

Our photo taking/professional blog writing this evening was interrupted when we spotted Rachael and Jake at the very same restaurant, and they sat with us and we all had a very lovely time.

Perhaps Geoffrey would like to elaborate on his meal this evening? In all honesty he can't remember the name of his beer either.