Pizza is Good. Except when it isn’t.

Have I ever mentioned that I don’t really cook?

There’s good reason for this.

I is a DANGER.

I don’t particularly enjoy cooking and I’m also not very good at it.

That could be because I almost never do it but let’s not get nitpicky here, mmmmmmmmmmmkay?

I like things to be simple and if food takes longer to prepare than to eat, then you can just forget it.

The other day I come home from work to find the bee relaxing on the couch reading a book.

I got excited because the couch looked GOOOOOOOOD.

So I decided to join the bee for a little nap before I had to do some writing and before he got dinner started.

The nap was AWE-some.

So awesome, in fact, that it lasted about 3 hours and by the time we woke up the whole house was dark and getting anything accomplished that evening was pretty much nixed.

Still…

as humanoids we really needed to eat something. It was after 9:00 so it was gonna have to be something quick and easy.

Being that I’m the total package, I told the bee that I would take care of dinner even though that’s usually his bag.

Get this… he actually likes cooking.

Crazy, I know.

And since you were wondering, the answer is NO. He’s MINE.

I chose frozen pizza which requires, at most, my taking it out of the freezer, slapping those bad boys on the oven rack, setting the timer and 15 minutes later:

PRESTO!

You have a piece of pizza slightly better than the worst slice you’ve ever eaten!

At this point we weren’t as excited as we were STARVING.

Things were going well until about 12 minutes in. It was then that the bee suggested I check on the pizza. You know, to make sure I didn’t fuck up the easiest dinner in the history of food preparation.

So I flip on the oven light and notice, to my GREAT dismay, that one of the slices is actually dangling dangerously low to the bottom rack, thus causing massive cheese and pepperoni slide-age.

I grabbed a spatula and slid it under the end of the slice that was still horizontal, except that I must have applied a little too much force to that end because it resulted in the pizza falling through the slats in the rack, and landing facedown on the oven floor.

You know how you can usually smell your food before you even see it?

Well, within about 5 seconds of the pizza splatting on the oven floor, the house began to fill with the putrid stench of burning flesh cheese. Even worse than the smell was the smoke.

Oh lord, the smoke.

You would have thought we set fire to the living room rug because quickly the smoke made its way from the kitchen to the living room where we keep the world’s loudest and most freakishly disturbing smoke detector of. ever.

It is shrill and ear piercing and I hear that’s a good quality for one of those things since they’re  supposed to protect you from dying of smoke inhalation or whatever.

Here’s the deal though:

The smoke detector is located on the ceiling of our living room. The ceiling of our living room is about 15 feet high which means that as someone who clocks in just under 5’3 I can’t even begin to reach that sucker without the help of the full extension of a broom’s handle and a step ladder.

Since I have clearly proven at this point that I have no business being in the kitchen, the bee takes to salvaging what is left of dinner while I scrounge up the gear needed for my battle.

Even with the stool, trying to stop that evil fucks’ monstrous scree in a timely fashion is a test of true acrobatics.

As most people know, once the alarm sounds, it is likely that it will sound MUL-TI-PLE times even after you manage to quiet it once. Since we weren’t having the best of luck getting the smoke out of the house in the first place, that shitty piece of shit went off another twelve times before I was finally able to successfully disarm the beast.

After scraping the burnt-on cheese crust from the bottom of the oven, the bee threw in another slice in the hopes of carrying on with dinner.

15 minutes later the bee returned with his slice.

As it turns out, during the shenanigans of the pizza splatting and the smoke rising and the alarm blaring, I had turned the oven OFF mostly because I am highly neurotic and figured it wasn’t helping our situation any if the oven was still pumping out gas while we were trying to stabilize the air to smoke ratio in the house.

This was something I had unfortunately neglected to mention to the bee, therefore this piece of pizza was almost as bad as the first. Instead of getting a blackened piece of cheese-less cardboard, he now had a slice that could be at best considered *mostly* defrosted and the consistency of a limp noodle.

However, being really hungry will lower your standards of edibility so it’s not like we went hungry that night.

Just crazy.

but that’s pretty much the norm…

Dear, Dr. Dog. Will You Marry Me (and The Bee)?

I have fallen madly in love. Now, before you start penning an open letter of warning to The Bee telling him what a scandalous harlot I am for my betrayal, let me tell you that he is well aware. As a matter of fact, he’s known from the start and he was there to witness it all, when this past Friday night my small scale crush turned into full-time infatuation with a group of 5 men. And a dog. Maybe I need to explain…

Back in July, we bought two 2-day passes to see Dr. Dog, live in Philly (their home base, and our home away from home), elated because the show would be the weekend following my birthday and what better way to celebrate?! I say this because 1. I am a compulsive show-goer, where some people like to have a nice meal out at a swanky joint, or use outlet shopping as therapy, I buy tickets to shows (making it to most) and 2. because for the better part of this year, Dr. Dog’s album “Fate” has been playing on a constant loop during just about everything we do. Driving to work, AT work, while on vacation, doing the dishes, to drown out the sound of my chattering mind, WHENEVER. “Fate” has become the soundtrack for our lives, we pimp the album to anyone who will give us the time to listen because, well, it’s really REALLY good. It’s not just the album, either, they have 4 other LPs and an EP, all of which have become a part of our daily listening practice. When there is a question about what to put on while driving together or hanging out at home, Dr. Dog on shuffle always works to suit both our fancies. Until this past weekend, I had no idea just how much Dr. Dog I really needed in my life.

Having never seen Dr. Dog before, I wasn’t really sure what to expect, just that I had heard they have an amazing live show. It’s kind of shameful, as a girl who has spent a good deal of time in the city of Philadelphia, from living there, attending school and working in the city, I had never seen this local band perform before. I had heard of the band, but had obviously never been so inclined to go the extra mile and put image to sound. I have conceded to kicking myself for such foolish ways.

Upon entering the TLA, I was immediately taken with the stage. It was unbelievably vibrant, the backdrop was a multi-colored basket weave of ribbons criss-crossed over their signature “3 dots” logo.  Three giant chinese lanterns (in “3 dots” formation, yet again) hovered over a stage literally covered with flowers, wrapped around mic stands, pouring onto the stage and interspersed with large carnival sized white lion heads. The sets theme provided a fresh and joyous vibe that spread from band to audience within moments of their arrival on stage. From the opening of the first song, the crowd was completely engaged, bopping and rocking about ferociously, an almost mirror image of the physicality expressed by the band onstage. In an age where most concert-goers seem too hip or jaded to do much moving about, this crowd had obviously never read the memo. It was wickedly refreshing to see a group of people so genuinely happy to see these amazing artists in peak form. And were they ever. Oh yeah, and co-lead man Scott McMicken even brought his dog out onstage during the set. Gotta love a group who loves their dog.

As if Friday night wasn’t enough of a treat, we returned again on Saturday, this time amongst our friends and a complete and total downpour of rain to see if history could repeat itself. The set list from the first night had been so perfect, that both Me and The Bee agreed if they played it exactly the same from start to finish we wouldn’t be disappointed. They had played a great mix of songs from most of their albums, focusing most heavily on their newest release “Fate” and Saturday night played out much the same, save for a few swapped songs and a change of order. The band returned to the stage in their uniforms from the night before, white suits adorned with a multi-colored mesh to match the backdrop perfectly. These guys worked their theme to the max and it really payed off. In my eye, they have solidified their place as potential successors to a Sgt. Pepper styled band without being labeled as solely derivative.

As the set wrapped up, Scott borrowed the cell phone of a crowd member, ordering a pizza “better make that an extra-large” because there are a lot of hungry people here. Moments later, as the band continued to play, assistants bearing pizza boxes stepped out from behind the stage, presenting the treats to the audience. Cries of “PIIIIIIIIIIIIZZA?!” could be heard throughout the venue. Pizza boxes began to infiltrate the crowd all the while, the band played on as more and more boxes emerged from behind the scenes. Sitting in the bar, we figured we would be overlooked but no sooner than we called defeat, a piping hot slice was being thrust toward me and don’t you know it, I look in all directions, and EVERYONE has a slice! Dr. Dog bought their entire audience pizza. PI-ZZA!!! I wasn’t even hungry, but lord knows I ate that slice with relish. Best pizza EVER.

classy lady

This brings me back to the title of this post. As I said earlier, the album “Fate” has been one that Me and The Bee have found such a profound love for that we decided the song “Army of Ancients” would be our wedding song. Wedding talk has been on the forefront for almost a year now, though we are no closer to deciding what we’re actually going to do about it other than picking a date and sticking to it (just a little over a year now!) but strangely (or not so, depending how you look at it) Dr. Dog has always been a predetermined part of the function. I figured when the time came, I would DJ the event myself, or at the very least, prepare a mix of our favorite songs to play on the dance floor, with “Army of Ancients” as ours to share.

Now, I have a very vivid imagination and no sooner had our Dr. Dog weekend commenced than I had visions of the band playing our wedding. Yeah, and who do I think I am exactly? Still, a girl can dream and I told The Bee that my conviction was so strong that I was willing to forgo typical wedding fare, such as a dress and flowers (not really saying much since I’ve been pushing for a shotgun wedding from day one) to fund a Dr. Dog wedding extravaganza.  A friend suggested that we simply get married AT a Dr. Dog show, an idea which caused my ears to prick up as well. So, call me crazy, I really must be, but we LOVE this band. They put on the best live show I have ever SEEN 2 nights in a row and damn, I’ve seen a lot of shows, but what they did on that stage was truly magical, making a rainy weekend in the city one of the best of my life. Isn’t that what everyone wants for their wedding day?

Check out this footage from Friday night (10.23) of the Dog performing one of my favorites, The Ark.

You can view the rest of the set that we captured here.