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Last night Thom and I went to the Kennedy Center’s Millennium Stage–the free performing arts series presented every day at 6 p.m.; that’s two of my favorite words right there, “free” and “arts”–to see Portland Taiko. Taiko () is the traditional Japanese art of drumming and the name of the drums themselves. I was first introduced to this kind of music in college, where my good friend Eriko was a member of the student-run group Stanford Taiko. And the college connection continues here, as the Portland group was founded by Stanford alums. The performance last night, which played to a packed hall, was amazing. I love this music. It’s beautiful, powerful, and athletic, and possesses so many possibilities for innovation. (And I admit, I also find taiko sort of erotic in a primal kind of way. Ahem.)

[Update: The performance by Portland Taiko is available in RealPlayer format on the Kennedy Center website, as part of the Millennium Stage archives.]

Afterwards, we battled the bitter cold and made our way to David Greggory for dinner. Yum. They’ve extended their Restaurant Week menu and prices through January. I selected the arugula salad, braised lamb shank (“with grain mustard potatoes, crispy kale, and red wine reduction”), and vanilla-bean scented flan. Everything was fantastic. I’d never think to fry kale, but hey, I might eat more greens that way. Oh, and the piece of lamb was huge. Seriously. “Renaissance-fair”-size is how Thom put it. David Greggory is a great place: prompt, friendly service (we had a firecracker of a waitress), and excellent food. We’ll definitely be back.

Hear that? It’s the silent nothingness of my office right now. It’s so quiet. Thank goodness I can listen to music (on headphones) at work; otherwise I’d go a little crazy. Let’s see, what CD do I have in the discman… ah, yes, Avenue Q. Lately it’s been in alternate rotation with Wicked. (Three weeks to New York, Thom!) Speaking of musicals, we’re seeing Mamma Mia! here at the National Theatre the first week of February. Yay. By the way, does anyone know if Urinetown is still coming to D.C.? Washington is no longer listed on their tour schedule, which is booked solid through early June.

Where was I? Oh, yes, it’s also rather warm in the office. I shouldn’t complain, since it’s freezing outside, but the stuffiness is making me sleepy. Sigh. I tell ya, isn’t Friday afternoon at work the longest stretch of time in the week?

As Thom has noted, last weekend we went on another Restaurant Week outing, this time to Butterfield 9, a smartly elegant establishment across the street from Red Sage, where we had dinner the previous evening. It was okay. I had a salad, the Herb Roasted Baby Lamb Chops (a little disappointing, mostly because it was cooked rarer than I would have liked), and chocolate espresso cheesecake (very good).

At least one restaurant is extending its Restaurant Week prices, and that’s David Greggory, on M between 20th and 21st Streets. We’ll probably check it out this weekend. They also recently started serving a Sunday brunch menu that looks divine.

Speaking of food, despite my well-intentioned plan of bringing lunch to work, I’ve eaten out a lot lately. Twice in the past several days I’ve gone to Tako Grill, a Japanese restaurant on Wisconsin Ave. a few blocks from my office. It feels like a trek to get to, especially in the cold, but it’s worth it. One of their lunch specials includes miso soup, a bean-sprout salad, a California roll, and a choice of entrée with rice, all for $6.95. A pretty sweet deal.

As for dinner at home, go ahead and laugh, but a couple of times I’ve made Pasta Roni, and damn it, I’m proud. Yes, I suppose given some planning I’m capable of more than boxed meals with names ending in “Roni” or “Helper”–I’ll return to the haute-cuisine Jacques Pépin recipes one day, I promise–but still, there is something satisfying about following simple directions, adding your own ingredients, and having it turn out okay. And receiving compliments from your man is nice. Oh, god. What a housewife am I. Just throw a pearl choker and an A-line dress on me, and I’ll start vacuuming the living room. (That image reminds me, you have to see Girls Will Be Girls. Hilarious.)

Anyway, now on to drink. Kevin Brauch, host of Fine Living‘s The Thirsty Traveler, is one of those people whose job I’d love to have. (One of the others is, of course, Samantha Brown of Great Hotels.) Okay, so maybe I’m not cut out to be a TV host, but I’d love to be at least Kevin’s PA (and other things too, ahem, I’m sure Thom will say). He circles the globe, exploring the best in alcoholic libations. Travel with a twist. I love it. It feeds our wanderlust. Last night we watched two TiVo’d episodes. During the one on port, in which the show travels to Oporto and the Douro Valley, Thom said, “Let’s go to Portugal.” And in another episode, on Scandinavian aquavit, Thom added, “We may need to go to Sweden too.” Add them to the list, baby.

Do we even need to ask about how the State of the Union address went over at our place? Some of it made me ill, especially Bush’s so-called defense of the “sanctity of marriage“:

Activist judges, however, have begun redefining marriage by court order, without regard for the will of the people and their elected representatives. On an issue of such great consequence, the people’s voice must be heard. If judges insist on forcing their arbitrary will upon the people, the only alternative left to the people would be the constitutional process. Our nation must defend the sanctity of marriage.

Oh, please. Does anyone really feel like Bush cares about the “will of the people” on any issue anymore? And the way I see it, if anything in this amendment debate needs defending, it’s the Constitution that needs to be protected against homophobia, not marriage against, what, loving same-sex partners who want the same rights as everyone else? That’s what this is: he can dress it up in terms of “respect” and “dignity and value,” but underneath it all is an entrenched belief that homosexuality is not an equal way of life. Ugh. Come to think of it, has he even ever said the word “gay” or “homosexual” in public?

Links: transcripts of the State of the Union and the Democratic response, and I’m throwing in the HRC website too, ’cause it always has good info and good vibes that will keep me from going insane thinking about Bush all day.

I’ll admit it: I actually want to see Win a Date with Tad Hamilton. I mean, come on, it’s got Topher Grace in it. And Josh Duhamel. Oh, and I guess there are some girls in it too, I don’t know. Heh. It comes to theaters this Friday, along with an altogether different movie that Thom and I plan to see at some point, a French animated film called The Triplets of Belleville. The new E Street Cinema (and most other Landmark Theatres) will be showing Triplets with Destino, an animated short that began as a collaboration between Walt Disney and Salvador Dalí and has finally come to the big screen. Sounds amazing. And looks amazing, too, from the available stills (or cels, I suppose).

Last weekend I watched Plata quemada (Burnt Money) on DVD. It’s an Argentinean film set in 1965 concerning two gay gangsters (who are also lovers) on a heist gone terribly wrong. It was okay. I mean, the premise is neat, the main characters have some depth and there’s good acting to support it, and the movie is visually interesting. But the plot wears thin and tiresome, and after a while it all just seems needleesly protracted. So it’s a wash.

Linguistic aside: I found it interesting that in Argentina, vos is used rather than tú (the familiar “you”). All the characters in the movie use vos with each other (I didn’t get what they were saying at first), and when they cross the border into Uruguay, one of them meets a local who says she knows he’s not from around there, what with his accent and all his “vos, vos.”

The article I link to above also mentions the corresponding verb forms (e.g., vos tenés instead of tú tienes, “you have”), but I don’t remember if they were prevalent in the movie. My Spanish skills are getting rusty. Is it time again for that PBS language-learning series disguised as telenovela, Destinos? And by the way, anyone remember French in Action? How about Say It with Sign? Oh, what a tangent this is. I swear this was about movies when I started. I’ll stop for now.

“Your man found a boyfriend.”

I turn around. “What?!”

For a second, I think Thom’s talking about Rufus, but no, not him. He means my other man, Nate Berkus. Le sigh. My design cutie is off the market. For now.

Thom’s latest comment today on my blog expresses some surprise at my not having written about it. Heh, maybe I’ve just blocked it out? So yeah, here’s the scoop: Nate Berkus has hooked up with Will & Grace co-creator Max Mutchnick. What a pair. We must have them over for dinner, eh?

On the other hand, am I the only one who has a love-hate relationship with super-cute power couples? (Well, as much as one can have a “relationship” with famous people one has little chance of ever meeting.) Maybe I’m just jealous. Er, I mean, I wish them all the best.

(W&G note: Megan Mullally will host Saturday Night Live on Feb. 7, 2004, with musical guest Clay Aiken.)

It is windy and freezing out there! I arrived at work about half an hour ago, and umm, I’m ready to go home now. It’s a holiday, for goodness’ sake. Oh well, I’m just having the “I have to work on a holiday that everyone else it seems gets free (I’m looking at you, Thom)” blahs, plus the usual Monday morning blahs. Blah all around. I need my coffee. That’ll perk me up.

Ahem. And how are all of you doing?

Today Thom and I took advantage of D.C.’s Restaurant Week (which ends tomorrow!), and had an early dinner at Red Sage, a great Southwestern restaurant on the corner of 14th and F Streets downtown. The Restaurant Week deal is a three-course dinner for $30.04 (or lunch for $20.04). Red Sage ain’t your typical Tex-Mex, no señor. Both the atmosphere and menu are delectable, refined. My selections were: a Caesar salad, the Roasted Red-Chile Pecan-Crusted Chicken Breast (described in the menu thusly: “smoked chile-honey glazed chicken breast, with plantain and black-bean empanadas, wilted Swiss chard, and pico de gallo in a shallot sauce”)–is your mouth watering yet?–and for dessert, a trio of flavors of ice cream. Ah, everything was so very delicious.

Afterwards, we browsed for a while at the Borders across the street, just as it was beginning to snow. A lovely evening all around.