Weekends make my life.

So since my last entry was a little hefty and because I love, love, love exploring and restauranting, here's a little recap. Friday was a very productive day at school--didn't get scolded by any professors (only got the stink eye once) and I actually felt like I was doing a great service to my patients! I was delighted to find out last week that I will be the Maid of Honor in a wedding in March (on a boat!!) and got to go try on my dress after school. Since I haven't been in any weddings since I was a flower girl for my mom's cousin and got such bad stage fright that I didn't throw a single petal--my one job--I am looking forward to making up for that come spring.



B and I had dinner at Paesano's out on 1604. I really love their decor and wish I had a better decor vocabulary so that I could explain what the place looks like. Lots of stucco, copper, polished nickel, and orchids set in the Hill Country. It was warm enough to sit outside next to the coy fish pond and pleasing-to-the-ears waterfall. I was having a hard time deciding what to order because all of the entrees sounded fantastic, but ended up copying B because one of our classmates, and subsequently the waiter talked up this dish so much--Jalapeno Pesto Fazzaletti with Peroni Post Roast, Cipollini and Goat Cheese. [pictured at top of post] Gah, it did not disappoint. Pair that was a bottle of Chianti and two decaf cappuccinos--we were in heaven.

Saturday was a beautiful day and we decided to try Liberty Bar for brunch. I have been meaning to try this place for like two years now and wish I'd gone sooner. The building itself is an architectural marvel and I am surprised the entire structure hasn't fallen over yet (think leaning tower of Pisa). The atmosphere is plain but soothing as you walk past a table with loaves upon loaves of fresh baked bread to seat yourself "anyplace you like." I started with a limeade and then devoured my french toast as it came merely TEN minutes after we ordered. That is my kind of service.

B ordered the Chilaquiles Nortenos, what I originally spotted on the menu, but decided it would be lame to order the same food as he did again. My french toast was enjoyable, but--I. kid. you. not.--that was the best plate of chilaquiles I have ever tasted. For those of you unfamiliar with tex-mex cuisine, chilaquiles and migas (as far as I am concerned they are the same thing) are a compilation of eggs, cheese (in this case creme fraiche and feta), tomatoes, peppers, onions, etc cooked in with corn tortillas paired with pico de gallo and beans. The tortillas really end up more like soft chips. The flavors and textures of this dish blew me away. It's very hard to achieve the right amount of crispy and soggy with the corn tortillas, so kudos to Liberty Bar!



After we ate, B told me he would give me $100 if I ate a stack of jalapenos he had put on his fork. Never one to be tempted into doing something stupid for a bet I immediately said no. Then he said, "oh come on, I've never seen you really step up to the plate and do something courageous." I don't know if it was his comment--insulting my ganas, or the fact that I recently became financially challenged, but I daringly ate the jalapenos. I immediately regretted this decision and remembered why I never play these childish games. Jalapenos are serious people! I didn't win a hundred bones, but B ate some too so we could be "blood brothers" and suffer together.


The time came for the bill and it never fails--I always get stuck with the extra penny! A little side note about B, he is the sorriest excuse for a conservative West Texas Cowboy you've ever seen. He thinks large trucks are "idiotic," he takes canvas sacks to the grocery, he thinks gays should marry and, AND, he gladly lets me pay for half of everything we eat or do. Word better not get out in his hometown that he supports stem-cell research, but anyhow, 9 times out of 10 we give the waiter two credit cards and if the bill is for an odd cent amount, I am always paying more. It's kind of become a joke and I really don't mind. I like that we are equals and I always end up ahead when it comes to birthday/channukah time--hello David Yurman.


I've received a complaint that our posts are too long, so to sum things up, amazing weather for the rest of the day saturday= Brackenridge Park, Sunken Gardens and Japanese Tea Gardens. We got yogurt at Prime Cultures which is a locally owned fro-yo shop run by a somewhat geeky, but friendly twenty something. We are usually the only patrons but enjoy the yogurt and the quirky style of the workers, who on Saturday delighted us with some acoustic guitar. B also completely, voluntarily rented SATC (seriously, you grew up in the Texas panhandle?) even though I was totally down with something called, We Own the Night. Saturday night party here and here for Megan's birthday and a relaxing Sunday. Waiting on Brigid and Yasi to return to SA so we can be fancy-indie-movie-watchers tonight.

I don't get it.

**Please don't get me wrong**, I am glad that so many people are coming together to raise money and send help to Haiti with this telethon, but I just don't understand what it is about America or about celebrities that makes us think that this one superstar-studded telecast will solve all the world's problems, and by participating we can somehow make up for all the other days out of the year when we only think about ourselves. Does it make us feel better to ignore problems at home and think we are the big bad studs coming to save poor Haiti? I can't decide if the trendiness or patronizing undertones are bugging me more as I watch. It reminds me of my university days when hipsters with very organized dreadlocks sat around talking about "Africa." Just "Africa," as if all those various cultures/humans/countries/souls were just one big entity that we had the right to discuss rather than driving 15 minutes to the ghettos of Houston to do any actual humanitarian work.

I'm not trying to take away from these efforts, but let's make sure we remember those struggling with poverty and lack of medical attention every day in our own cities. My fellow dental students and I can attest to the poor health we see every day in our patients. There are parts of San Antonio that might look similar to developing nations and those people aren't getting George Clooney to come by and drop off some cash.

I know some people are saying, well, poor people without jobs only have themselves to blame because of xyz, but the Haitians didn't cause this earthquake. (Tell that to Pat Robertson, another post in itself.) You know, I don't think anyone strives to live in poverty, but life happens. I personally live a great life and have virtually no financial responsibility as a student and a girl with very generous parents & grandparents, but I have recently had a taste of the tougher life. Since turning 25 and being kicked off my parents' insurance I've had to shell out some serious dough for various prescriptions and doctors visits. Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts, are you hearing me?? It's no wonder so many people avoid taking preventative measures and put off getting regular checkups!

I can't tell you how stressful this new health insurance ordeal has been and I am angry with myself for previously being so naive. Now I really think twice before handing over a prescription for antibiotics (making sure to write the generic) to my patients and getting irritated when they are non-compliant in filling the prescription. All of us need to get involved in solving these societal problems because even though we are sitting pretty right now, you never know when a law firm might go under, when cancer might strike, or when some other earth-quaking, life shaking change could occur leaving even the most prepared, hard workers looking for help.

So in addition to updating your facebook status about how awesome you are for donating to the Haiti Relief Fund, keep being awesome after facebook forgets about Haiti. Donate some old clothes, volunteer to hang out with sick kids and get educated about health care legislation. I am very busy and somewhat lazy and if I can make time for these things, then so can you.

Just a clarification

I feel like I need to add a clarification on behalf of PLSB due to a few words from a comment Jamie made in her talking to strangers post. We're not bike haters over here at PLSB, quite the contrary actually. Before Jamie got to writing about OMS resident/bike rider/mean dude, I was actually already mentally trying to formulate a post about bike riding, because it has slowly over the past year become a welcome new hobby in my life.

First of all, totally with you Jamie! There was nothing to warrant bike dude to say f**k off at 7:45 in the morning. But, technically he was following the right rules of traffic. Bikers are supposed to follow all traffic laws and when in high traffic areas, they are supposed to be like a car and follow rules like a car and take the place of a car while waiting at the light. Living in the same neighborhood and knowing the 7:45 am traffic rush, "I just need to turn right!", "Damn! I got stuck behind the bus that won't turn right on red", he should have gotten in the left lane.
But, at the same time, I feel like there is a lot of pent up aggression drivers have against bike riders which I totally don't understand.

Aggression #1: "Get out of my way, you damned biker!"
Me, riding comfortably in the SHOULDER of a country road, no traffic or cars around, massive ranch truck comes barreling behind me (and yes, we can hear you come up on us and yes, we know you are there), HONKS repeatably as if I was in the middle of the lane or something and then speeds up to pass me swerving way too close to me and glares at me out the window. I'm sorry, am I offending you? Is gracing your rural country road with my 'I'm saving gas by riding this' urban symbol of a bike offensive in any way? (yes, I know all the good ole boys out there think it is offensive...we are in Texas after all. I just don't understand it)


Aggression #2: "Look at all that fancy shmancy gear they have to show off"
I'll be the first to admit - bikers come off as pretentious and elitist by their choice of clothing alone. Then even more so with their exclusion of all who do not partake in only the best sport out there. When I first got into biking in college, I was riding my parents 20 year old mountain bike and wearing cotton (volleyball-style) biking shorts with no padding. I thought "I'll show them, I can still bike and have fun without all that shiny gear and padding!" But then I collapsed under pressure. It's so much more fun and less work when you are riding a bike made for the road. And once you experience a padded butt, I promise - you won't dare go back. But, you don't have to break the bank to get there! I ride just about the cheapest, on-sale road bike know to exist, and I can now pretty much keep up with some $2,000 titanium frame beasts.

Just to get this in here again - my sister and I are riding the MS150 this year! Go check out her's and my site.

Still Recovering

Why is it that when you spend any period of time thoroughly enjoying yourself-a good weekend or perhaps a little vacay-you need a few days post-enjoyment to recover?! Or is that just me? Please tell me it's not just me. Regardless, I'm currently in recovery mode from this past weekend and the process is only being hindered by the start of the Australian Open (!!!) and school (blah).

I wish I had pictures and stories from all the incredible new places I visited around town like Jamie, but I don't. I spent my weekend mostly in one location-Tom's apartment. And I spent my time with Tom and two of his really good friends from back home. "ew, yuck, gross boys poor me I had to spend three days with dirty stinky boyyyyys". Not true. They weren't dirty or stinky. Not even close. The humor, conversation and all around good time had with a group of guys is just different than when a group of gals get together. Not necessarily any better or worst, just different. I can blame it on nothing other than the fact that I was my older brother's second shadow growing up. He took me everywhere with himself and introduced me to all his friends and all I know about sports, games, competition and the outdoors I learned from him. I think a lot of my sense of humor comes from him (and the rest probably comes from my dad). Identity crisis? No! Some of my best friends are girls (ahem, PLSB ladies, cough cough). It's just that all that time spent with my bro and all his buddies taught me how to interact with guys...I get their humor, I can take a joke and dish it out just as well. It just works.

We went to Austin for a day, there was a cool breeze and abundant sunshine, it was perfect. We spent some time at Mozart's and Spider House, enjoyed the stuffed avocado at Trudy's and even visited a tattoo parlor to watch a friend get some work done..um, let's just say that put me a little out of my comfort zone. I don't like pain and the people getting work done were squirming around with agonizing expressions on their faces. Don't get me wrong, it looks cool and I was intrigued with the idea of some symbol with some special meaning to me being tattooed in some cool location on my body, but if you try to tell me that needle poking into your skin a million gazillion times doesn't hurt, you're a liar.

Sunday was spent watching football early on then switching to some stand up on Comedy Central, browsing the shelves at a bookstore, cooking and chit-chatting at a local bar. I love cooking. I whipped up one of my favorite persian meals that I learned from my mom-a stew with red meat and okra with a rich tomato base served over white rice. I always get a little nervous cooking for people, sure things taste OK to my palate but I never know what it's going to taste like to other people. Overall I think everyone enjoyed dinner and I was quite pleased. Perhaps the undeniable chemistry between me and one of the fellows (he shall remain nameless) added to my anxiety but that is neither here nor there! The evening ended with a little "jam session" involving a piano, a guitar, a banjo and even a harmonica. Tom and co. are masters of music and it turns out I can still play a thing or two on the piano, yay! The lack of sleep has left me dragging a bit these past few days but it was totally worth it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go catch up on some tennis action before clinic this afternoon. Yes, I have a weird borderline obsessive love for tennis. Don't judge me.

Talking to Strangers...

I have never been a fan of talking to strangers.

My parents claim there was a minor blip in the early '90s when they say I asked complete strangers at a theme park how the roller coaster was as they excited the ride. I vaguely remember this, but for the most part I get skeeved out when it comes to making small talk with people that I don't know. I have to think this comes from a Berenstain Bears lesson or the trauma I endured as an adolescent when my mom decided it would be a good idea to loudly inform the sales associate at Mervyn's that I would need help picking out my first bra. I have watched in awe as my friends and boyfriend chatter away with checkers in the grocery line and have picked up a few tips. It is okay to discuss universal things like the weather and asking other people about themselves seems to be encouraged.

Since I realized that the efficacy of my dental training depends on my ability to create a trusting relationship with virtual strangers, I have been "practicing" my communication skills over the past year or so. What an adventure! I have opened up to waiters, asking their opinions on what to order, and just yesterday had gobs to talk about with the new guy that cuts my hair. It is funny because in the instance of my hair guy he is probably trying just as hard to make conversation with me as I am with him, so it's slightly contrived, but still good for practice.

I'd like to think there have been a few positive outcomes in conversing with strangers. Over the weekend I taught a checker at Sun Harvest Market how to roast pumpkin seeds and once at the Nordstrom Bistro I was advised to order my sandwich warm, a suggestion that would have remained unknown had I been too timid to ask the waiter how he felt about their Roast beef sandwich. When I was studying/living/partying abroad in Barcelona during college I got some great help from strangers willing to take us out, give directions, etc, although more often than not I was being criticized by my peers for giving "friendly" strangers in bars the "cold shoulder." Um, hello? You have to be a little bit cautious.

There have, however, been a few social mishaps with this new found drive to interact. For example, what I didn't write about in a previous post about restauranting was the time I tried to make a joke to the girls swiftly taking over our table at a crowded cafe. "Get it while it's hot," apparently was not funny and to make matters worse, since I was so focused on what I was trying to say, I accidentally jabbed the pizza box I was holding directly into this girl's gut. Whoops.

And unfortunately at times, social mishaps turned into straight-up fights! I think there are some bullies among us. Last week at Body Pump (workout class with the other PLSB contributors) I accidentally bumped into this man whilst trying to reach some weight clamps for a friend. He gets into a huff and exclaims, "you don't need to push, there is enough for everyone." Not understanding why this man, who easily had 100 pounds and two feet on me, was in such a tizzy over my slight nudge, I retorted, "actually there is NOT enough for everyone. We run out of supplies every week!" I felt remorseful the entire remainder of the class and I bet he never thought about it again. Little did he know he just tarnished my new talking-to-strangers record.

Another fight erupted on the way to school one morning. I'm driving along and see a bike rider over to my right. I'm thinking, boy I don't want to get stuck behind this bike so I speed up and get ahead. He somehow ends up in front of me in line at the light that is the only exit out of our little neighborhood. Evvvverrrryone knows that at 7:45 am you do not, repeat do NOT get into the right lane and go straight. If you want to go straight, get in the left lane and kindly wait on the light, because everyone and their mom is headed right on Babcock and needs to be able to turn right on red. So this jerk bike rider, decked out in North Face and probably some fancy shmancy bike equipment that I don't understand gets in the MIDDLE of the right lane waiting to go straight holding up about eight cars who are trying to turn right on red. The blinkers are getting louder and louder. I try to remain calm, but I just wish the biker would scootch over to the side and let me go around him. I mean I understand we are supposed to treat him like a car, but he is on a BIKE and cannot go 45 miles per hour so he might as well be courteous to all these automobiles behind him. B wants to say something, but I keep the child lock on the windows so he can't get us into trouble. Five minutes later and Lance Armstrong still seems oblivious to all of us waiting so I relent. Window goes down and B kindly says, "um hey can you move over so we can all get around you?" (I could not hear his response at the time, but) biker says, "well you cut me off back there so you can F*** off." I can't believe he used the F word this early in the morning to a complete stranger! B and I were fuming and would have been ready to fight this chump had we not been in such a hurry to get to school. I vowed to really let this guy have it if I ever saw him around.

I just assumed this guy was a snotty med student, but funny thing is.....two weeks after the incident I walk into my first day of Oral Surgery. I head to the back of the clinic to put my bag down and who should I see??!?!? Angry bike rider! Luckily we never had to interact with the oral surgery residents, but wow I came close to burning a bridge there. Now that we've had the run-in, this "stranger" is becoming less and less strange. The other day I was walking behind him into the gym and then we actually saw him one rack over at Banana Republic!

The thing about strangers I guess is that you have to be careful because you might bump into them again. After all, wasn't every friend at one point a stranger?

As for me, I continue the fight against social awkwardness and would appreciate any tips on how to communicate more freely and effectively.

Re-discovering SA for Parents' Weekend

What a delight to have visitors for the weekend! My parents arrived late on Friday evening and had a home-cooked Shrimp Stirfry waiting for them. B got me (us) a wok for Channukah and we've been excited to use it these past two weeks. We have gotten more adventurous with our cooking and decided to go off-the-cuff instead of strictly following a recipe. The secret to our stir fry, we have decided, is using Sriracha hot sauce and Oyster sauce. It doesn't matter what else goes in the dish as long as you get those flavors going. We are grateful that Ed, the friendly HEB employee, introduced us to the Oyster sauce. I dislike talking to strangers (more on that later), but in this case it worked out.

So after dinner we headed over to a local coffee shop, Olmos Perk, where they now host live music on Fridays. We have logged many hours at Olmos Perk studying for pathology or reading magazines on Saturday morning, but this was my first visit during the night hours. What a different vibe! We sipped on lattes and listened to the musical stylings of "A Likely Few."





Saturday morning we went to the Pearl Brewery for brunch and farmer's market action. The Pearl Brewery is no longer brewing beer, but the site is host to new shops, restaurants, a culinary institute, and a Saturday morning Farmer's market. Before getting our shop on we ate at Texas Farm to Table, an "environmentally responsible" cafe. The food was very tasty, but the service left a little something to be desired. I had a bacon, egg and cheese panini with a side of fresh fruit while others in the group enjoyed breakfast tacos, turkey sandwiches and a tomato-basil omelet. This food was just the fuel we needed to carry us through the rest of the day's activities.



Farmer's Market
(we arrived late and most vendors were sold out of fresh produce)


I love lavender! I am hoping this makes my home smell fresh and delightful. Last fall, B and I visited wineries in the Texas Hill Country and I acquired some "Lavender Linen Water." I thought I was being all fancy and French and I would sleep so well, but actually the scent did not last long enough to drift me into a blissful, stress-free sleep, the spray just made my bed wet!


After eating and shopping we walked down to the newly developed SA riverwalk extension. This addition to the otherwise crowded and kitschy riverwalk is extremely refreshing. I actually saw San Antonians running, jogging and walking along the river with their dogs. The creators of this addition were sure to include art and detail into every sidewalk and underpass. My dad was tickled to imagine the dialogue that must have occurred between the construction workers and the artistic director who insisted that little artsy squiggles be placed in the concrete sidewalk. Below are a few pictures from our walk. This section of the river actually extends all the way to the downtown portion of the 'walk, but that is one long walk I do not need to make again.



Saturday night we decided to try a new restaurant, Nosh. Nosh is connected to the restaurant/bar/concert venue, Silo and was apparently created by the same guy who is behind another SA treat, Bin 555 (although I'm not 100% on that).



The restaurant space is small, but you can see the open kitchen and the ambiance is that kind of casual yet classy bit that I love.


Our spunky waitress encouraged us to try the sizzling mushroom bruschetta pictured below and the "Backporch Lemonade" cocktail pictured above. We enjoyed feasting on the "Nosh-oes," as well.

This hot and crispy chicken sandwich was incredible. I am not sure what was in the slaw sauce, but I couldn't get enough. The chicken had been prepared in sesame and cornflakes, I think, with a kick of spice.
B ordered this Ribeye cheese steak and my dad devoured his veggie tacos before I could get a photo.
In our family dessert is not optional. We ended up having two orders of these doughtnut holes with white and dark chocolate dipping sauces.

After dinner we met up at the local smoky, female friendly, bar with Yasi and Tom. All in all it was a great long weekend. After my parents left I did a lot of nothing, but did get to see Funny People. Kind of a sad story, but an enjoyable cast.

Sorry for the weird white stripes along the pictures...I was trying something new, but I guess that method for posting pictures is a no-go.

Surprise!

Happy belated Birthday to Jamie!
I had a few people over to my place last weekend to celebrate Jamie's birthday. Yasi and I started feeling pretty bad that the celebration was getting soooo belated, but it was still a good time had by all.
A few re-caps:

Um, maybe when you are planning a surprise party for a friend it would be a good idea on your part to get in touch with her boyfriend (I sent him an email!). But also maybe when you are in dental school and getting like 50 emails a day about very important things it would be a good idea on his part to check his email more often than every three/four days. Well when Jamie told her B that day she was going to come over to my place for a "bloggy dinner", at least she got a really candid response because he didn't know he should be hiding anything.
*I did end up talking to Jamie's B that day so he was able to join us in the festivities...thank goodness*
***See below for the confusion and explanation about all the "B's" in our life***



We feasted on some traditional Brazilian party food...Caipirihna's, Feijoado (a meat/bean stew), and Pao de Queijo...and a plain, non-Brazilian chocolate cake.
Why Brazilian? Well I was looking at Food and Wine and some cocktail spins they had and there was an interesting take on the Caipirihna (the drink that first started the relationship between me and my B, but that's for another day). And so, I tailored the menu around the drinks...always a good idea!



***The Secret Lives of B's***
If you don't know us and have been reading a few of our posts, you might be wondering: "Who are all these people called B?" or "Brigid talks about a B and Jamie has a B; so do they share a boyfriend?" or "Just use their names!!"
Well - Jamie's boyfriend (a fellow dental student) and my boyfriend (a non-dentite) are both B's. So if you read "my B" then you might want to check out which one of us is writing. My B isn't totally on board with this whole internet-life sharing thing and asked for some anonymity on the blog. I'm assuming Jamie's B feels the same way. They are kind of similar in that regard, seeing as how both refuse to have a facebook account (and we were in college when facebook started and was only for college students and was non-sketch!).
So, if you know any eligible Brad's or Bill's; I'm sure Yasi is looking for a B also!