"didn't I have sushi yesterday?" and alien jars...

Better late than never, as promised, here's one of Roomie's alien jars...

It's tiny for tiny aliens. Because I heard quite the uproar about not having a couch beside my kids' giant pencils in one of last week's posts, I decided to include my Iron Ring (which is worn on the pinky) to give you a sense of scale. Sorry, no picture of a piglet jar.

Okay, I know, you're going "Huh?", and I'm saying "Yeah, I don't know, either." Luckily, my husband's hottie-hotness and scientific brilliance makes up for... uh, alien jars.

Onward to sushi...

No, I did NOT have sushi yesterday. I wish I did. But alas, I was sushi-less. This week went by so quickly that it just felt like yesterday. I, in fact, had sushi on Saturday, with Harmzie, Myrtle, and our girlfriends, as we do every 3rd Saturday of the month.
We call this monthly ritual Sushi with Larry. Who's Larry? He's the poor sap who's name we yoink to make our reservations under at the various sushi joints we invade.

This month, we descended on Wasabi Sabi on Taylor.

I know you're dying to know what I had. So feast your eyes on this:

Huzzah! Looks yummy, eh?!

Okay, from left to right, 2 pieces of tobiko nigiri, mango tango maki, and another mango maki thing (do you remember what it's called, Myrtle?)

Sorry, it's missing some pieces. I started to dig in when I realized I was going to take a picture.

I really tried to control myself that day. And believe me, it's HARD. When it comes to sushi, I'm like a crack addict, and sushi is like my, um, crack. I always overdo it -- like "roll me out in a wheelbarrow because I'm too full to walk" kind of overdo.
Any sushi addicts out there? Yeah. Okay, so you know what I mean.

As I was saying, it's always HARD to keep my sushi order small when...

a) my crack dealers -- aka the awesome folks at Wasabi Sabi, and their other joints Wasabi Bistro and Wasabi on Broadway -- deal some frickin' awesome crack.

b) I'm dining with my equally-addicted enablers:

These are two the usual suspects.

Again, no, I wasn't drunk when I took this picture. I fuzzed on purpose. (Remember, my friends don't want anyone to know about their secret lives.)

I wanted to take a picture of them actually taking a bite, but those chopsticks are lethal weapons in the hands of my friends.
Especially in the hands of the one on the left.


  1. That looks interesting, I like thsi girls night out idea, I need to find me more girls! I'm simply drowning is guys here

  2. So... um, kyooty... Uh, where exactly [ahem] are you?

    And, oh yeah. Nice post. Good sushi. etc, etc.

  3. Sushi . . . mmmm. I had a permanent case of tuna sashimi lust the whole time I was pregnant with Rosebud. And it was the only meat I could contemplate.

    Mental cruelty, that.