Dear Early-20s Dude at The Killers concert, You go! You go on with your bad self! Love, Amanda

My sister and I made our way to Ypsilanti last Thursday (yes, on a weeknight! I went out on a weeknight!) to go to the Eastern Michigan Convocation Center to see one of her favorite bands, The Killers. Now, I like The Killers, too, but I didn’t used to like them. I saw them about five years ago at the Magic Stick, and I thought they were atrocious. Of course, I probably wasn’t all that cool five years ago, either, so I recently decided to give them a second chance. And I must say, they’re pretty damn good. Surprisingly good, even. They really rock out and make you want to dance, and I like that in a band. It’s a good feature.

The concert was great—high-energy, great visual show—but I don’t really want to talk about The Killers or the concert, really. I want to talk about the early-20s dude who was rocking out HARD to the music. I mean, shamelessly rocked out. It was awesome.

Why?

Well, this guy clearly loves the Killers. You could tell that this was pretty much the best thing on Earth for him—to be able to be at the EMU Convocation Center in Ypsilanti, Michigan to see his favorite band. And he wasn’t about to play it cool. He was going to dance, squirm, wiggle, jump, and do weird hand/fist/pointing things while shaking his head as if to say “no no no!” but clearly in a way that conveyed “yes yes yes!” And it was awesome to see that. I love that about people. I love that people are able to keep Mr. Cool Guy at home while Mr. Hell Yes I’m Going to Dance gets to come out and enjoy an evening on the town. Mr. Hell Yes I’m Going to Dance is so much more fun, anyway—even if he is a little awkward and uncoordinated.

He just warmed my heart. To see a young man be so unabashed about his enthusiasm and just shake his body freely. To not care what anyone around him thought. To just dance like a damn fool. To love every second of it. He just warmed my little heart, I say!

We need more of that in this world, frankly. More unabashed dancing. Not just from the dudes, but from everyone. Of course, I may be biased when it comes to the subject considering I danced along to Beyonce’s “Put a Ring On It” a total of three times in the course of one evening this weekend, and I clearly love to dance. But you. You, sir or madam, you reading this right now—maybe you should give it a try. You’ll quickly find out that Early-20s Dude and I really do have the right idea about this.

Andrew’s on the Corner: Heaven? Maybe. Maybe.

Check this out.

Okay, so the website is far from sophisticated, but don’t let that fool you: this place is the real deal.

I came upon this little D-town jewel this weekend for a friend’s birthday party, and I will never remember the day as a celebration of this friend’s birth, but rather as a celebration of the day I discovered Andrew’s (sorry, Eric–I’m only partially-kidding!).

The barkeep, Mike, has been added to my Heroes and Other People and Things of Awesomitude list.  Yes, this is a real list–and his place is right after the guy who played harmonica outside of the undergrad library at Michigan who everyone thought was a bum but was actually a professor and right before Tofutti non-dairy sour cream (a recent love of mine).

Flowing locks of hair, great big smile, and a strong pour.  He was fantastic.  I just love real, honest bars with real, honest people, and Andrew’s on the Corner is all of that and more. When you go (and you will, because you must), order the Gypsy Tear.  It’s a shot that packs a punch, but in the “oh hell yeah” kind of way.

“I was given this recipe by a 129 year old gypsy woman,” said Mike,  “and then she took my wallet.”

That may or may not be true, but I don’t even mind.  Make mine a double.

In other news, I love Indian food and Battlestar Galactica.

I got my patriotic post out of the way, now it’s time to get to the good stuff: overeating in the winter and the return of BSG.

I had what could have possibly been the greatest night of my life this past Friday, and it was literally 0 degrees out.  ZERO. Degrees.  Outside.  But no matter, my friend, because I had dinner at Priya in Farmington Hills.

You may have seen it before–it’s the stoic building on a hill on Grand River that looks like a funeral home.  Oh, and it looks like a funeral home because it used to be one–and, in my opinion–still probably is.  First of all, it is cold as a coffin and eerily quiet in there–and those tall ceilings and ornate curtains really do make you feel like you’re six feet under.  But again–no matter, my friend, because you will heat up right quick with one scrumptious bite of the Gosht Vindaloo (that’s lamb with potatoes rolling around in hot goodness).

You don’t ever want your meal to end–even when your mouth is on fire and you’re sweating and starting to wish you had your face planted in the snow in the 0 degree weather outside.  It just hurts so good.

On my plate in addition to the Gosht Vinadaloo: Aloo Gobi (cauliflower and spices) and Bengan Bartha (eggplant and spices).  Oh man, I love Bengan Bartha so much.  I want to be buried in it.  When I die, I want death by Bengan Bartha (too many death jokes? it’s almost impossible when you find yourself dining in an old funeral home–sorry).

And the nan, my god, the nan!

What could possibly be better than having an amazing Indian dinner?  Why, watching the season premier of Battlestar Galactica, of course! All while eating chocolate cake.  Not any ol’ cake, though–delicious, whippy whip frosting chocolate cake decorated for the occassion.

Those smiling balloons?  Those represent the Final Five for anyone who knows anything about BSG.  Hilarious!

The absolute nerdiness of all of this was tempered by the fact that this was a mildly social evening–I was with Tyler and our wonderful friends, James and Jayne.  So don’t worry, I haven’t fallen into the absolute pit of desolation and anti-social behavior that can result when someone spends one too many Friday nights at home watching the Sci-Fi channel.  I’m not completely lost.  And if I am, I’m in denial–and I guess that’s okay, too, for now.

So say we all.

A little brighter.

You just couldn’t help but feel it–today was a brighter day.  No matter which party line you decide to stand behind (or forgo entirely), you just could not help but feel that the air we all breathed today was a little bit fresher, sweeter, and more welcomed.

Let’s just be honest here for a moment–have you ever seen such verve and patriotism from our fellow Americans as we have the past few days?  I’m young, but I’m not too young to understand that what has been happening around each and every one of us is truly remarkable.  People lifting up their heads, hands, and voices with hope and pride that a new day finally has arrived, and we are standing smack dab in the middle of it.

A new day.  That’s really all it boils down to: finding ourselves in a new day.  Having a new opportunity to make things right.  Having a new chance to be proud of who we are and to actually sustain that pride.  Something different, something real, something meaningful.  The uniting power of it all.

You can just feel it in the air!

And it’s not blind optimism, either.  Our problems are just as gnarly as they were on Monday–that is an undeniable reality, and yes, I really did just say gnarly.  But today–today is a new day–and we can approach our problems in this new day with this new chance and this new light.  And my goddess, is this new light bright.

Yes, today was a brighter day–and tomorrow can only be brighter.

Speramus meliora; resurget cineribus. (We hope for better things; it will arise from the ashes.– the motto of Detroit).

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2009/writers/the_bonus/01/07/detroit/2.html

Put your hands up for Detroit.

Thoughts on our current situation:

If I had the floor at the auto rescue talks.

&

6 myths about the Detroit 3.

All thanks and praise to the Franklin Cider Mill.

This time of year, it’s important to give thanks for our blessings in life, especially cider and donuts.

Behold these donuts…

From this, the most holiest of holy places…

Where Ye Olde Water Wheel turns…

To bring forth delicious cider for the people (except for babies and old folks)…

Amen.

Eatin’ good in the hood (well, in Commerce Twp…).

Last night, Tyler and I hosted a “tapas” party with a good little gathering of friends–which, I must say, wasn’t really a tapas party at all but much more like a potluck. Nonetheless, it was delicious, and everyone brought really fantastic food.

Here’s a sample of the menu:

• Chickpea Salad
• Tempeh Lettuce Wraps
• Lima Beans with Chorizo
• Bacon-Wrapped Dates (not sure if this is the exact recipe, but they were awesome).
• An assortment of delicious cheeses and almonds
• James’ Specialty Chicken Curry with Basmati Rice (his own recipe!)
• James’ Specialty Spinach Pie
• Dan’s Yummy Wheat Bread
• Kate’s Amazing Pumpkin Spice Bunt Cake with Hand-Whipped Cream (which I wanted to eat forever).

Top that with a rousing game of Apples to Apples and a few booze-infused rounds of Catch Phrase, and we had ourselves a lovely little evening.

Martha Stewart (and Holly) would have been proud.

When it’s cold and dark out, the logical thing to do is go for a run outside while wearing all black.

Not Shown: Headlamp (for safety reasons, of course)

I refuse to let the lack of sunshine and warmth prevent me from my (attempted) daily runs. In fact, I refuse to let the lack of sunshine and warmth bring me down at all. For this reason, it’s incredibly important to woman up and get the hellojello out the door.

Yes, it’s dark. Yes, it’s cold. Yes, I’m wearing all black. And yes, most dogs think I’m a burglar as I run past their fenced-in territory, but damn, does it feel good. The symphony of barks from unsuspecting dogs that resonates in my wake is downright satisfying. I know they’re howling to each other, “Look at this crazy broad prancing around like a ninja when it’s all kinds of cold out!” At least, I like to pretend they’re howling that to each other.

Amusing thoughts like these keep me warm. That, and the four (soon to be five) layers of clothing.

Take that, winter!

Mama Rose’s big, hip day in the D.

On Saturday, Mama Rose, my sister, and I ventured through the super-awesome freezing rain to the Detroit Urban Craft Fair at the Filmore (formerly the State) Theater in Detroit.

Let me tell you–it was marvelously hip and so daggone good to see all those fun, hip folks of all walks of life enjoying the homemade Michigan arts, crafts, and wares on display.

This wasn’t your (or my) mama’s boring old craft show–something of which I made sure Mama Rose was aware before we arrived–this was a fun-filled fair with homemade soaps, scarves, paintings, magnets, buttons, skateboards, dollies, and cards brimming with Michigan love.

Here’s a pic of the Filmore fill with arts and crafts galore. I took this from the stage–and let me tell you, it was a little surreal to be on the stage at the Fillmore where so many amazing musicians have played. That just added to the fun of the event.

Some of my favorites:

Michigan mitten note cards from dang argyle — I’m going to have to get me some of these for le holidays.

Funky, fresh, and fantastic letterpress printed goodness from Rar Rar Press. Amy and I wanted Mama Rose to get this postcard –because it’s true.

Painted cotton shirts, scarves, onesies and more from ellembee. I really gushed over these and got myself a faboo little scarfy poo to add to my collection.

D-town Love from City Bird! I love maps of all kinds, and City Bird is cartographic coolness.

Birch bark jewelry from bettula. Just look at this website. Birches are one of my favorite trees (they are tied for first place with Weeping Willows…yeah, I have favorite types of trees…), and to see someone use the fallen bark of these beauties to make stunning jewelry just makes my little heart soar.

After the DUCF, we hopped on over to Bucharest for some yummy Bucharestian (?) food.  Me? I had the bean soup and some scrumptiallyadumptious hummus.  Mama Rose had cheese turnovers that she said she wanted to eat for the rest of here life.

And because no day is complete without dessert, we fund our way to Avalon Bakery to enjoy some sweet treats and a few photo opps.

Detroit love feels so good.