white russians

Last night in the bar there was a horde of young people, people my age, who looked way too hip to be hanging out in a dive place like the Hut. They reminded me of Sarah, really, and I can only assume they were overflow of the SXSW hordes. One woman with a SXSW badge on did get up and sing my favorite Evanescence song.

For the most part, I drank a lot of white Russians and watched Alan play pool. The bartender, Elizabeth I think, annoyed him by looking so seriously at his ID.

We came home and drank red wine and talked for hours and hours. Played our own private round of World of Darkness, and talked about the end of the world. It was fun, and unexpected. I fell asleep comfortably, with his arm around my waist and his breath on the back of my neck.

It's beautiful outside and I should go swimming. I woke up with a bruise on my jaw, which is weird. Only a slight bit of a hangover, but one that will probably hit Alan harder.

One of the strangest things about being married to me is the overwhelming transference of fear. I used to be more afraid of my own death. Now I'm afraid of Alan's.

I really need a swimming pool icon.

pool news

The pool is frigid, and probably about the same temperature as Barton Springs. Cold water feels very good in the sun. It's nearly eighty degrees out there. I am already beginning to change colors with the summer. Read some of the Werewolf Apocalypse while I dried out.

I think I've had more sex in the past 24 hours than in the past week. Tonight I need to wear a high collar, because there is a huge reddish purple mark on my neck. Hah.

lime butter caper sauce and blackened ahi tuna

4 oz butter
half onion
half lime, sliced
tsp garlic powder

clarify onions and limes, splash red wine vinegar til pink, dash cholula hot sauce, 2 tsp capers, 1/8 cup finely minced cilantro

Serve over seared or blackened ahi tuna.
Let delight commence.

This may be the most perfect thing Alan has ever cooked.