The Lizard Chronicles

Some of this is true. Some of this is better. –Too Much Joy

Barcelona Day 5, Part 2: July 30, 2017

Filed under: Food,Life tales,Travel,wine — lizardesque @ 8:33 pm
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Looking sharp in our new hats, Rachel and I browsed a few more shops in the Gothic Quarter before stopping for lunch at a restaurant called Momo, the name of which, reflected in glass amused me greatly and would actually make a great restaurant name. Omomnom…

OmOm

Noms at Omom?

 

BarcelonaFlower

Panots of the Flor de Barcelona

Full of paella and sangria, we continued in our pursuit of Spanish souvenirs be returning to La Vientinueve, which we had visited during our first day in the city. Since we’d purchased a suitcase to bring home our wine, that meant we also had space for shoes and other items. La Vientinueve has a plethora of adorable dresses, skirts, and accessories, but the shoes are the real stars of this shop–colorful, unique, and made in Barcelona. Rachel tried on one pair and quickly determined those were the ones for her. I had a little more trouble making a decision.

IMG_6532

Do I need to buy another suitcase?

I think I surprised everyone in the store when I finally made up my mind and only bought one pair (along with a dress and some sunglasses). Truth be told, if money and packing real estate had not been concerns, I could have easily gotten about five pairs (*pats self on back for exercising restraint*).

Shoes

These are the ones that came home with me.

We hit a few more shops then headed back to the hotel to drop off our treasures and clean up before our much-anticipated fancy dinner that night at Monvinic. Unfortunately, the restaurant didn’t quite live up to our expectations. First, in order for one person to do the tasting menu, everyone at the table has to order it (which isn’t unusual, but I’ve never understood why this is the case), and they said they could not do a vegetarian tasting menu. Anyhow, I ordered an asparagus salad and the morel stew. Since I’d asked about vegetarian tasting, the server was nice enough to inform me that the morel stew had veal broth in it, which was not mentioned on the menu (again, not unusual in that regard) but that they could prepare a vegetarian version of it. Great!

One of the purported strengths of this restaurant was the extensive wine list and the sommelier to assist in pairing wine with food. The sommelier came along and first asked if we were thinking of getting a bottle or ordering glasses. We told him glasses, thinking perhaps we could dry a few different things that way. Then he asked if we wanted red or white. I said I liked both and was open to whatever he thought might go best with the food I ordered. “Red or white?” he asked again.

“Well, I guess I probably favor red somewhat, but I’m flexible.”

“Red then,” he said and began scrolling through menus on his iPad. “I would recommend this Tempranillo…”

“Oh…” I said. He’d hit on the one type of red wine I know doesn’t agree with me. I like it just fine, but after a few instances of having one or two glasses of it and being very sick the next day, I’ve learned to avoid it. I laughed and gently explained, but the sommelier seemed to take personal offense at my rejecting his suggestion. He turned again to his iPad and recommended another wine (the type of which escapes me) and I said that would be great. When Rachel asked what the sommelier would recommend with her order, he again seemed shocked and confused that we would want to order different things. Why this should be an odd concept to a sommelier, I have no idea. Ultimately, Rachel just said she’d have the same thing I’d ordered.

The wine, whatever it was, was good. I’ll say that much, even though I had been less than impressed with the process of getting it. My asparagus salad was also excellent. When the main dishes arrived, I was rather put off to see a large fried egg right in the center of my morel stew–another thing that had not been mentioned in the description on the menu–and this one I can fault them for. I’m a lacto-ovo vegetarian, so technically, I eat eggs, but only if I can’t taste them. I’m down with eggs baked into cookies or cakes, but I despise the taste of eggs more than anything else I can think of. I ate around the egg, and the rest of the stew was quite good. I know could have sent it back, and I probably should have, but for whatever reason, I didn’t feel like the bother. We declined looking at the dessert menu, instead deciding to cut our losses and go out in search of gelato and found it at Gelats Dino.

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Gelato!

 

Play

Play in the streets with children!

Not quite ready to call it a night yet, we strolled around with our cones and decided to seek out the Arc de Triomf, which we knew was somewhere in the vicinity. Besides, if I saw one in Barcelona, I knew I’d only need one more to have a collection. Since we’re apparently gluttons for punishment, we consulted Google Maps, which then seemed to  indiscriminately pick directions for us to turn at random times. We literally went in circles until we finally spotted a sign on the street that pointed us in the right direction, and we found the Arc…triumphantly!

Arc

Found it!

 

I Like a Challenge…and a Distraction July 13, 2017

Filed under: Clothing,Life tales,Poetry — lizardesque @ 2:34 pm
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Afternoon work break

Collaborated with friends

Vital shoe research

 

Small Joys July 7, 2017

Filed under: Clothing,Life tales,photography,Poetry — lizardesque @ 4:04 pm
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Greenshoes

Put on bright green shoes
I bought in Barcelona
Smiling commences

 

Age is a state of mind…and, oh yeah, body too. Shoes are also a factor. October 25, 2015

Filed under: Animals,Clothing,Life tales — lizardesque @ 2:57 pm
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I began my 41st birthday with my usual Saturday morning yoga class. There’s nothing like yoga to keep one feeling young and healthy, except that in this particular class, I tweaked my back a bit. It was nothing serious, just one particular movement that caused a bit of lower back strain. I did not repeat the movement, and periodically throughout the rest of the day, I did some dynamic stretches to keep my back limber and make it feel better.

That night, I got gussied up and thought to myself that I don’t look half bad for my age. Also, I wore whimsical shoes, which I’m pretty sure makes me seem even younger.

Kitty shoes!

Kitty shoes!

Ian and I went out for a lovely dinner. We returned home briefly, during which time I did a series of cat/cow and marauding bear stretches on our living room floor (still in my cocktail dress, mind you), and we headed out again to meet some friends (one of whom was celebrating her birthday, which had been the previous day). There was much merriment. There were some shots. There was a piggyback ride given to me for part of the roughly one mile walk from the bar to our friends’ house. There was karaoke. At one point, I was compared to Yoda (for my wisdom and perspective, NOT my age).

Ian and I decided to call it a night at around 3:30. As we walked a little more than a mile back to our house, I lamented the fact that my whimsical shoes were causing me discomfort. Don’t get me wrong, they’re actually quite comfortable, considering, but still… I kept telling myself we were almost home and kept up the conversation to take my mind off my feet and the fact that I was cold and my back was sore. The topic of skunks came up. I remarked that a few days earlier had been a very skunky day, as in, I’d endured the scent of skunk for the vast majority of my morning walk in the forest preserve. “Well,” said Ian, “this is a time of year when a lot of skunks are out getting busy with…”

“Skunky cold medina?” I offered.

“Indeed.” He paused. “You know, there’s a very narrow age range of people who would immediately get that reference.”

A brief discussion of Tone Loc followed. A lengthy discussion of Tone Loc would not have been possible. We both knew the two songs that everyone in our demographic knows, and there’s really only so much you can say about them. As we passed a park, Ian veered off the sidewalk and took a few steps toward a bunny that was sitting in the grass. I kept on walking, fearing that if I stopped or even slowed I would not have the will to start walking again. We were almost home, and soon I would be able to remove my adorable whimsical shoes that had been pushed well beyond their comfort capacity.

“That bunny does not like Tone Loc,” Ian remarked as he caught up with me once again.

“How do you figure?”

“Well, I was thinking about Tone Loc when I approached it, and it ran away.”

After knowing him for almost 18 years, it seemed I was finally having an effect on Ian’s logic since this statement is much more representative of the kind of reasoning one might expect from me. At first I tried to argue. Silly me. I should have realized this would be futile.

“Do you know any bunnies that like Tone Loc?” Ian demanded.

I was force to admit that I possessed little to no knowledge of rabbit opinions on the gravelly voiced performer. I also had no evidence that the bunny in question was a fan, so I ceased my argument. On the bright side, I had been briefly distracted from my aching feet.

It was 4:00 a.m. and we were mere feet away from our doorstep when I spotted two more rabbits in the grass. “Hey, you, bunnies!” I called, “how do you feel about Tone Loc?” One bolted away immediately (probably not a fan). The other retreated a few feet, paused for a moment, and then hopped away. I went in side, kicked off my shoes, and stretched my back again.

Still crazy after all these years…

 

Things One Might Assume About Me From the Internet Ads I Get October 7, 2012

Filed under: lists — lizardesque @ 12:07 pm
Tags: , ,

A few of these are actually true, but most are not.

I am going to surprise no one and admit that I do like shoes.

  • I need to lose seven pounds a week
  • I need to discover the true reason I am unhappy with my life
  • I may be 55 years or older and have joint issues
  • I must fight back against my declining testosterone levels
  • I like shoes
  • I need printer ink
  • I might have a use for enfamil
  • I like cheese
  • I have the desire to become a social worker and/or counselor, and that this has something to do with pictures of back tattoos
  • I am interested in buying industrial-grade metals online.
  • I need to quit smoking
  • I want to look 12 years younger (whether this refers to 12 years younger than I am or 12 years younger than I look [which, by some estimations is at least 12 years younger than I actually am] is unclear)
  • No, really, I like shoes a lot
 

Worst. Invention. Ever.* September 11, 2012

Filed under: Clothing,Life tales,Rants — lizardesque @ 12:55 pm
Tags: , , , ,

They look cute, but in fact, they are PURE EVIL

A few weeks ago, I was sitting in a lounge on a cruise ship, enjoying a cocktail, when I noticed a persistent squeaking sound that reminded me of the hot dog squeaky toy that my childhood dog used to chew on. I looked around, spotted a little girl of about 3, and figured she must have some toy that was the source of the sound. I tried to ignore it, but the noise persisted. Why people give children toys that make noise I will never know. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the little girl jumping up and down and noticed that the squeaking matched the timing of her leaps. At first, I thought she was just squeezing whatever noise-making toy she had in rhythm with her jumping, but I realized the situation was much worse.

The noise was coming from her shoes.

(dun dun DUN)

This toddler was wearing shoes with some sort of squeaking device embedded in them. Before long, she stopped jumping, but she still squeaked with every step. The only apparent way to stop it was to take her shoes away or pick her up (both of which are frowned upon if you are a stranger to said toddler).

For the love of all that is good, why would someone invent squeaking shoes for children???

Upon further investigation, I learned that these shoes do offer the option of removing the squeakers for “quieter times” (ie, to prevent parents and/or innocent bystanders from flying into homicidal rages). In looking at the Wee Squeak website, I learned that some parents seem to feel the need to outfit their children in squeaky shoes in order to keep track of them. Now, I’ve never been a fan of the kid leash, but please parents, if the choice comes down to leash or squeaky shoes, opt for the leash.

Squeaking shoes for children has officially unseated the Epilady in my personal list of worst inventions ever.

* Disclaimer: Please note that I am prone to using hyperbole. I’m not suggesting that this invention is actually worse than things like the nuclear bomb, Agent Orange, or Microsoft Power Point. Just go with me here.