Ok, maybe that’s a bit harsh, but come on. Why the heck doesn’t Google have a way to sync its amazing calendar system with Entourage? I don’t want to deal with iCal bullshit & so apparently sync-ing the two isn’t possible. I think in reality, they just want to make Mac users wait since this feature is already available for people with PCs that want to sync Gcal with Outlook.
If anyone important-ish is reading (meaning anyone at Google or anyone who knows how to design programs like this), please, please, puh-leaseeee hook us up with a way to sync our shizzzz!
It’s nice. We all went last Saturday to celebrate Fiona’s 21st birthday. I hadn’t skated in years, but it came back pretty quickly- the lessons I took when I was 9 paid off- I didn’t fall once! I thought the rink would be old and sketchy, like many things in France, but it was brand new & made me think of home.
Ice Skating in France = Do it.
In an attempt to be adventurous at an Alsacian restaurant last night, I ordered something with a large fancy “A” next to its name, meaning it was a house specialty. What I ordered turned out to be called: Véritable Andouillette Pur Porc Fermier (tirée à la ficelle, sauce Riesling). Do not order this. Ever. I repeat, NEVER order this dish.
It was essentially a sausage made of pig intestines. Although based on the appearance and smell, I was fairly certain of this when it was delivered, Google confirmed it for me:
Andouillette is a coarse-grained smoked tripe sausage made with pork, -(but some versions using calf)-, chitterlings …
Pork organs stuffed in intestines….sausage-like
I made one slice into it when I still thought it was just a bumpy sausage on a string, and my nostrils were assailed with the stench of sewage. Maire elegantly phrased it that the sausage smelled like someone had shit in their pants. Derek couldn’t get over the fact that the inside of the “andouillette” which was spilling out of its casing, looked like tapeworms. I’m not going to lie, I actually thought for a moment (or a few) that I had ordered some sort of brain sausage, based on the curling shape of the “meat.” Don’t worry though, not one bite made it into this mouth. It was that foul.
Luckily it was served with a mountain of fries, so I didn’t go hungry, however, now I am traumatized. I took a few photos to capture the memory, but they are on Barbara’s camera so I’ll have to upload them later. For now I’ll just let you imagine my tasty meal.
Make better choices than me!