falafel tacos, snow and ice, suburban mom cosplay
I spent a big chunk of January in Boston. The flight was cheap, I had no in-person obligations in LA, and I wanted to celebrate S's birthday with her. It's the perfect time to go, I kept saying ironically, anticipating snow and ice and wintry mix. Digging out the four pairs of wool socks I own. Packing all three of my sweaters.
You know what? It was the perfect time to go.
I got snow and ice, boy did I get ice, and an alien landscape to run my eyeballs across. I got to cosplay as a suburban mom, scrambling to put food in the faces of teenagers as they banged through the door at 5:45, requiring turnaround by 6, and rides to clarinet, robotics, dance. Trips to the mall for dance clothes, or the New Balance outlet then New Balance store then back to outlet, followed by DSW, Nordstrom Rack, and another mall, where we finally scored Reeboks in size 13. The boy knows what he likes. (And he values my opinion? Which is a huge boost to my middle-aged ego.) I did not drive the minivan, but I did umpteen ride alongs.
I sat in the living room with my coffee, gazing out at winter. I sat in the basement with S, sometimes drinking gin sometimes not, joyfully consuming eps of Naked Attraction and Love Is Blind: Sweden (terrible! I do not recommend!), and for Boston-themed family movie night, The Departed (also terrible! watch this instead). S + L + I celebrated the birthday in a hot tub on the edge of a cliff in Maine, wearing bathing suits and beanies.
It was perfect.
*****
This month in tacos: I've learned not to exert myself seeking tacos in Boston... But I do exert myself here, in this taco town. Yesterday I took a jaunt to MidEast Tacos, a new spot in Silver Lake, and picked up one of each: chicken, shrimp, steak, falafel. They were fine. In a pinch, sure. The meats were juicy and flavorful, the falafel was solid. I'm not sold on why they're served inside tortillas, however, other than the "fusion" novelty factor. Didn't quite fuse for me.
This month in print: I'm reading Biography of X, a novel by Catherine Lacey, in which the wife of an enigmatic art world celebrity attempts to piece together the facts of said celebrity's life after she dies unexpectedly. I won't tell you any more. I'm really into it.
This month in movies: How To Have Sex (terrible name, outstanding movie), Molly Manning Walker's feature debut, struck me as shrill at first then stealthily drew me in. The depiction of late-teen female friendships and yearning and sex you thought you wanted but boy YOU DIDN'T WANT THAT is subtly, expertly done by Walker and her cast.
If you're jonesing for updates on my feature debut, here's a conversation I did with Kay Tuxford, a fellow filmmaker, on The Trials of Post-Production.
xoxo,
Laramie
As always, here's your trusty taco map.