Super Tuesday

I need more revolutionary icons. I also STILL need a Toby icon, because no one gives me more joy over the political process than a cranky made up character, but honestly, Toby Ziegler is my cranky, liberal hero and always will be.

So, over the past few weeks I've been tearing up over a lot of things - too much work, a little heartbreak, the overwhelming feeling of being stuck in my housing situation, of being stuck in general. I've leaned over the steering wheel in my car and sobbed until the fist in my throat unclenched and let me breathe. I've cried silently along with music, clearing the tears off my face only when I could raise my hands from the wheel. I've cried in bed, angry tears that weren't supposed to show up, causing both of us to look away and pretend it wasn't happening.

But this morning, I went to vote, I made my decision with pen in hand, standing there and letting momentum and instinct sway me, and when I got to work I realized that my primary choices, that the choice between the two people who were going to run for President of the United States, were a young black man and a woman. And yeah, I know so much of the voting right now comes down to race or gender, and I kind of hate that. However, politics aside, we are in a position right now to elect a woman or a black man to the Executive Seat of Power. And god, that's... that's enough to cause the kind of tears that don't hurt. We have fucked up an awful lot of things as a nation lately, but somewhere, maybe we really are on a road to something better.

I have distinct memories of Geraldine Ferraro's bid for the Presidency, and her tears, and the way that she was absolutely torn apart for being weak, for being unsuitable. And I don't know that we've come as far as I'd like as a collective consciousness, but I think we're slowly (if not thoroughly) letting go of some of our presuppositions. And that's breathtaking. That's hope, baby. We've got a long way to go, but we're... working at it, I think.

Also, if you really want to know, I'll tell you who I voted for in the primary and why. Because I feel like I could support either candidate for President, so the primary was an excrutiating, if intriguing exercise in internal debate with a winner that came only at the very end, and of course, the winner swayed me with words.

Food and Fic

Sunday night, as part of LA's dineLA Restaurant Week, (lunch and dinner prix fixe meals all over town to encourage you to try new places you might not otherwise), we went to Dakota, which , as it turns out is the restaurant in the Roosevelt Hotel in Hollywood.

I love the Roosevelt, even though they've chichied it up, made it hip and expensive. It's old Hollywood, dark and gorgeous and lovely and has always been one of my favorite places in the city despite the new penchant for a $14 martini (and side note: as I mention martinis here fairly often, I hope those of you who don't know me understand that I am not talking about a frou frou drink. I'm talking an ice cold gin martini, very dry, with a twist. Preferably with Hendrick's gin, but Sapphire will do in a pinch. Or occasionally a dirty vodka martin with three olives missing their pimentos. No, I don't order this in public very often because I WILL NOT eat pimentos and will pick them out and sometimes, you just don't want to subject your companion to the squirmy little pimento piece wrapped in a napkin). Anyway...

Because I'm lazy, here's the menu: dineLA menu

We had one of each and it was really... just spectacular. The steak was perfect - tender and flavorful and beautifully seared with this amazing bordeaulaise sauce (basically a red wine reduction). The scallops were lovely (in a ginger soy sauce that was nicely balanced and which I wanted to drink), seared on both ends, firm and sweet. The salad of tomatoes, watermelon and fromage blanc was about 80 times better than I thought it'd be, despite the ingredients being somewhat out of season, and the desert was just lovely - rich and chocolatey and not ovwerwhleming.

Plus, the restaurant is all dark wood and leather and low lighting and good acoustics and I would NEVER have eaten there otherwise because steak is not really my thing and it's prohibitively expensive. But, for those of you who live in LA who haven't taken advantage of Restaurant Week, I'd highly encourage it. Dinner is either $25 or $34 depending on where you go (deluxe or premier) and lunch is a total bargain at $15 or $22! We had lunch at Luna Park a week ago, and while I don't find their food spectacular, it was still a fun lunch for a great deal!

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Onto the fic, in honor of the primaries, give me a character and I'll tell you something about their attitude towards government or politics - a first time, a thought, a moment of participation, a moment of disgust, or a moment of joy.