A friend of mine and I discovered the strangest coincidence about ourselves today. This particular friend and I have long believed that we were separated at birth, and today, events of long ago have reared their heads to prove us right.
Yep, it’s a small world, after all, and karma only waited 12 years before coming around full circle.
For the record, we both “took the other road, as just as fair, and having perhaps the better claim, because it was grassy and wanted wear. And as for that, the passing there had worn them really about the same.” It only took a year and a half of friendship to figure it out.
I’m am sore from head to toe. I have a bump the size of a tennis ball on my leg. Even my ass is bruised. Why, you ask? From forced participation, that’s why.
When you’re faced with obligatory work-related activites, someone is bound to get hurt. And we all did. Here’s what I learned about myself and the people with whom I work: We’re vicious. Killers, really. Out for blood. I can hear my mother now: “It’s all fun and games until somebody gets hurt.” The problem is, it was all fun and games even though we all got hurt. Seriously. Everyone that was there last night is limping today. I can’t move my right arm. I’m fairly certain I have whiplash.
If you haven’t played, you really ought to give it a try.
No, you’re not signing the petition to blow up Westerberg High, but you are putting your name on some important legislation. Help stop “drive-through mastectomies” by going here and signing the pledge. You only have to give your name and your zip code. Nothing else.
Whew! I’m bushed. This whole working for 2 hours thing is rough.
Hmmmmmm. If I’m the wife, I don’t know what I’d be more freaked out about: the fact that he spent $17,000 or the fact that he’s a psycho stalker. After all, that’s $17,000 I’m not gonna get in the divorce settlement. I’m just sayin’.
But they can make me wince. Or laugh. I hate the word “moist”. It’s gross.
On the other hand, I love the word “monkey”. Say it with me now: Monkey. Monkey. Monkeymonkeymonkeymonkeymonkey. See? It’s fun!
How glad am I that she is home?
We had a great time with the Coopers last night. I ate a cow, and Kevin at a cow and a pie (but not a cowpie).
I actually have a weekend off.
I get to go to Fort Worth today, where I will gorge myself on Angelo’s.
There is a trip to Central Market in my near future.
I made blueberry muffins.
I suck at dominoes, but I discovered new psychic abilities.
We’re going to New Orleans.
I get my new range tomorrow.
I got to snuggle with my dogs this morning.
Did I mention I get to go to Fort Worth today?
See? All is right with the world. Have a great weekend, everybody!
Tonight I made steak with a hearty mushroom gravy, zucchini, and Garlic Mashed Not Potatoes. While my heart will always lie with the potato, I have to say, the Not Potatoes weren’t bad, as long as you weren’t expecting them to taste like, well, mashed potatoes. Since I can’t stand cauliflower (again, it’s a texture thing, not so much a taste thing), I wasn’t optimistic. However, once you puree them beyond all recognition, they are actually quite good. Thanks, also, to Stephanie for the cheese tip: I added about 3 tablespoons of cream cheese so I could get the right consistency. As usual, I jacked around with the original recipe quite a bit in order for it to fit my personal preferences.
Long story short, the verdict is in: Not Mashed Potatoes are good. Kevin ate them and liked them, and that’s usually my yardstick, since he tends to be picky. I’ll make them again.
Okay. Everybody knows that I am addicted to the Food Network. Seriously. If my TV is on, and I’m home by myself (and it’s not primetime when all the good reality shows are on—-ha!) chances are it’s tuned to channel 231 on DirectTV (sometimes PBS, but usually FoodTV). FoodTV does “themes”. October is scary food, Thanksgiving is turkey, Christmas is cookies, etc. Since it’s a brand new year, logically the focus is on weight loss, about which I could really care less. Give me my butter and my cream. NOW.
Nevertheless, I was intrigued by this guy. I watched him make Not Spaghetti and Meatballs. Now, I make a mean meatball, and an even meaner marinara. These two things are really the focus of the meal for me. The thing is, he used spaghetti squash in place of the spaghetti. I’ve seen it done before, but I was skeptical. I like pasta just fine, thanks. But then he used words to describe it which piqued my interest: “tender-crisp”. Hmmmmm. Intriguing. I’m a texture girl, so, although I was still skittish, I gave it a try.
Oh my dear sweet Lord it was good. Even Kevin liked it. Now don’t get me wrong: I’m not planning on replacing the Pasta Group in the food pyramid completely, but I am so totally gonna make this again. Not Spaghetti, mini-meatballs, freshly grated (really good) Mozz, and a nice Shiraz, and I’m one happy (and surprisingly carb-free) girl.
Next up: Mock Mashed Potatoes. I’ll let you know, but I don’t have a real good feeling. Then again, I could be surprised……One disclaimer: I am not on a diet. I will never be on a diet. I am just curious. So don’t go asking stupid questions. Thank you, drive through please.
I’ve had 5 glorious days off from work, and sadly, I have to go back tomorrow. This whole “work” thing really isn’t working for me.
For a long time, I’ve made fun of Josh. I don’t deny it, I embrace it. At least, that is, until today. You see, Mr. Cooper actually uses something called….what’s the word?….technology to organize his recipes. I’ve always prided myself on being more of an improvising kind of girl. Anyone who’s ever been in my kitchen will tell you that I cover the egdes of my kitchen cabinets with Post-It notes that have my own unique shorthand on them. A typical one reads something like this:
2 T butter
I myself know that this is my recipe (although certainly not all-inclusive) for Creamy Tuscan Chicken with Garlic Sauteed Spinach. All I need are a few brief words to remind me of certain recipes. Herein lies my problem.
As Kevin reported yesterday, I am in the process of gathering all those sticky notes and condensing them into some sort of cohesive collection for a friend’s wedding gift. I have about eleventy billion sticky notes. I spent eight friggin’ hours at the computer yesterday, and I’m not even halfway finished. The worst part is trying to translate recipes from my head onto the page. I have lots and lots of things I make that I just, well, make. The good news is when I’m done, everything will be all in one place. You bet your ass that I’m ordering a copy for myself when all is said and done (thanks to Cafe Press).
The moral of the story is this: Sometimes Josh is right.
Well, ya know, we all wanna change the world. I don’t so much make the resolutions, because there’s too much guilt involved when I don’t keep them. So, instead, I will reflect on how I lived my life in ‘04, and focus on changes I can make to live a better life in ‘05. That seems much more effective to me than resolving to drop 5 pounds or eat less carbs (although having said that, I think I’m gonna join Curves).
Resolutions aside, I hope everyone had a safe and happy New Year’s eve, and I, for one, am already looking forward to a fantastic 2005. Life, my friends, is good.