Life After Matt

My household has been in shambles lately.

It started with the oatmeal incidents. My cupboard I've been keeping oatmeal in has shelves too short for the canister to stand upright, so I've kept it lying on it's side. Well that cupboard happens to be above the stove, so while I was cooking rice one night, I reached up to get something out of that cupboard, and as soon as I opened the door the oatmeal came spilling out all over the stove, into my rice pot, and onto the floor. I had rice-oats for dinner that night.

But due to a couple glasses breaking while washing dishes on account of my not having a dish rack because it takes up counter space, I had broken the vacuum and was unable to clean up the oatmeal right away. It might seem like a nonsequitor, but after (I thought) picking up all the large glass chunks I had vacuumed to double check, and a large piece of glass had migrated into the living room and I hadn't noticed it and it broke my vacuum. So right. The oatmeal wasn't going anywhere fast.

The next day I decided to pot my plants in the living room on top of some brown paper bags I'd spread out on the floor. That didn't work, and so dirt, literally DIRT, was all over my living room floor.

The next day I was making mac&cheese quick before I left for work, and the SAME EXACT THING happened with the oatmeal, which I had not thought to move to a safer location. So I ate some mac&cheese-oats quick and left.

So then I'm coming home to an apartment, and there is literally dirt and oatmeal tracked/blown all over my entire apartment. Eventually I borrowed Phil's vacuum and took care of that, but it was quite the blow.

Now this week I've been having trouble with my toilet not flushing right. Two plungers (yeah, I borrowed Phil's. Surprise, surprise.) and three days later I'm still a little iffy about it, though it's getting the job done. Eventually.

Oh, and the last... I don't know, say, 6 times?... I've made cookies, I've burnt the hell outta them. Also, I've been microwaving tortillas and bagels. Which apparently is a domestic sin.

Sigh. Someday I WILL have a respectable home life. Mark my words.

***BLEEP***

I totally just set my bangs I'm trying to grow out on fire lighting a cigarette on my gas stove burners.

Might be time to quit cigaretting.

Crack Coffee

I cannot believe how much coffee Matt and I must drink.

To save money, we've been buying those big tubs of coffee that Folgers sells... it's nowhere near as good as the name brand cool beans stuff, but costs the same amount for like twice as much. So right, I actually LOOKED at this tub today... it's supposed to make 270 cups of coffee. Ummm... yeah. The two of us went through our last one in less than 3 weeks. Generous estimate. What on earth?? That's 135 cups each, divided by 21 days... supposedly 6.4 cups of coffee a day? But let's say my memory is flawed (it's not. trust me on this one.) and it was actually 4 weeks ago we bought our last tub that I used the last grounds of this morning... but that's STILL 4.8.... almost FIVE CUPS OF COFFEE EACH EVERY DAY.

I'm sorry, but this is just not true. Some days, sure, it's probably true. But I don't always drink coffee every day! I KNOW this for a FACT because I REMEMBER the frequency of the caffiene headaches I've been having. And Matt's not even HOME enough to drink that much!

And yet the coffee is gone. Puzzling.

So I've been reflecting on this, trying to account for the missing grounds. Does Matt have some mysterious other use for them? I don't. I wish I did, just so I could feel sneaky and mysterious about it. But I don't. And I doubt he does either. I concocted some deleriously entertaining fantasies on these lines trying to think up other crazy uses for coffee grounds that had to be kept secret, and how I'd go about it. It was a totally free 10 minutes of entertainment. But then I got bored and refoccussed on the puzzle.

And then I had a moment of clarity. Actually, it was a memory of an occurence that's happened so many times that the one memory actually represents a conglomerate of memories all nearly identical in substance. It's of myself, pouring a steaming cup of coffee that Matt has just brewed for me, darling boy that he is... and I put the mug to my lips... and find myself recoiling and making a face. "A face?" you inquire? What sort of face? I don't have a name for it exactly, but it's damn near identical to the same face I make when I down a shot of tequila. And this, mind you, is AFTER having added around 150cc of milk to it. (Yeah, shaddup. Kitchen measurements aren't my thing, I'm more of an eyeballer, and I can't recall the conversion from cc's at the moment. Though it is disgusting that the estimate I just gave for milk was derived by my mentally comparing it to the graduate I use at work to measure urine output.) But basically what I'm trying to say is I SOLVED THE MYSTERY!! Matt makes crack coffee, nearly 5 times as potent. (Judging by the figures earlier, probably only 2 or 3 times as potent, but I'm claiming artistic license for hyperbole here.) So we DO drink that much coffee! But qualitatively, not quantitatively, due to Matt's obstinate inability to brew a sane cup o' the good stuff.

Crazy. Maybe I should start watering mine down to save on milk instead...

Word for the wise...

Baking cookies in a breadpan (as opposed to cookie sheet)= no go.

In other breaking news:

1. I had a double candle melt-down (you know, where the liquid wax melts the surrounding stuff unevenly and it busts forth like a miniature dam exploding, extinguishing your "mood" lighting and making a mess).

2. I suspect that there's something not-right about how the gas line is connected to my oven. I think it was the smell when I turned it on that tipped me off. Either that or my cookies smell FOUL. Unless you're into that whole gas station aroma thing wafting through your kitchen...

3. I am allergic to a certain "parfum" in lotions they have at work and it makes me MASSIVELY break out within minutes. Of course lotions never identify their particular scents either, so that's really helpful to know. So for now I guess "blue bottles=bad" will have to be my operative maxim.

4. My mom is like 50 times cooler when we're not living together.

5. She's so much cooler that when I woke up the other night at 2:30am and my left arm was numb and called her convinced that I was ABOUT to have a heart attack she talked me down. I even managed to fall back asleep afterwards, despite the paralyzing fear that I might die in my sleep and not even know it. I did however have to change into cute panties first-- just in case. Grandma always advised to make sure you always have nice panties on in case you had to go to the hospital. Better safe than humiliated.

6. I keep getting into weird situations where I make cool friends, but not the kind that you can mesh with your other cool friends. Unfortunate.

7. I'm two papers, 4 exams, and 4 work shifts away from sanity and new projects. I like new projects. I also like sleep. Mmmm... sleep.

8. This is a little naughty, but I've realized why exams are so much harder for me this time around. In the past I've usually had a boyfriend around to makeout with. As HORRIBLE as it may sound, it's excellent stress relief. And endorphins are good for studying/alertness/etc. Pity. Guess I'm hitting the gym.

9. I absolutely abhor when professors assign busy-work. I'm way too cool for that shit.

10. I'm coming down with a cold. Don't share anything with me, and keep your Purrell handy.

11. Bubble baths don't solve everything.

12. Trucks going over potholes in the middle of the night might sound like an intruder opening your front door. But don't be fooled. Cuz you'll look like an idiot.

13. Little I say in the first 10 minutes after I wake up can be trusted. Especially if it has anything to do with cornmeal, the song "Good Vibrations," or scooters.

14. Pussy willows are an excellent substitute for baby's breath in a bouquet on your kitchen table in the spring. For real.

15. Living alone=increased cell phone minute usage.

16. Bubblemix is not an acceptable substitute for hand soap.

17. Bubblemix is not an acceptable substitute for dish soap.

18. Bubblemix makes furniture sticky. ... and is not an acceptable furniture cleaner.

19. Febreeze is not an acceptable substitute for laundering clothes.

20. "Ironing" dresses by hanging them up while you take a sinfully long shower has its distinct limitations.

annnnnd that's about all I got.

Rub-a-dub-dub three men in a tub...

And I want to be the baker. When I get off work and have 20 minutes to chill before I hop in the shower and get ready to go to class I like to unwind by reading the forwards to bread baking books. There are some really cool, mystical ones out there that totally fascinate me. Or more appropriately, YEAST fascinates me...

Anyways, once Matt and I eventually get an apartment this summer I'm hoping to become professional bread bakers. My mom sent me a cool link you guys may or may not be interested in: BreadTopia. If you're also interested in bread baking you should check it out. And if you're not interested, you're crazy: I mean, c'mon, it's nutritious, delicious, and oh-so-fun. Check it out.

Also, I think I want to sign up for some sort of Community Supported Agriculture subscription. Hell, yes.

Wal-Mart Cake

So wrong. I recommend everyone order their cakes in person with it written down to illustrate.

Or even better: Just freaking bake your own and cut out the incompetent middle-man.

Slightly unrelated: Did you know that the acronym C.A.K.E. stands for "Cops Care About Kids Excelling"? I think the cops should care a bit about their own need to excel; don't they realize there're two C's in there??

Over-easy eggs

So my brother Matt and I go through a lot of eggs. I mean seriously, they're high in protein and dirt cheap. I'm a big fan of over-easy eggs with a slice of hearty wheat toast, but the problem is over-easy eggs are pretty hard not to butcher. In fact, fried eggs in general are pretty hard to do and not break the yolk or have them look ugly, unless you're doing them over-well and don't have good tasteor sense in the matter. So Matt, my resident egg-guru has instructed me in the art of frying my eggs, and I think I can safely say I've finally mastered it.

I'd like to share the process with you so you can also be competent eggs preparers and never have to be embarrassed by having to serve someone a misshapen, yolk-broken, nasty fried egg. It's quick, it's easy, it's difficult not to do right, and results in perfect fried eggs every time.

First, you preheat your pan and spray it with no-stick cooking spray. You want it hot, the burner should be on 7 or 8, and the egg should sizzle when you drop it in.

Second, once you drop your egg in and it's sizzling, drop the heat down to three or four. Immediately following this drop a few tablespoons water in the pan all at once and cover it up with a metal lid/cover right away. The steam from the water trapped under the lid makes the whites of the egg frost over the yolk, cooking it through and through without leaving slime on top, and also making it so you don't have to flip it and risk breaking the yolk or damaging it's shape.

It should cook in just less than a minute for a perfect over-easy egg, and slightly more for over-medium. If you want them over-well, I have nothing to say to you other than quit wasting eggs. You might as well hard-boil them. Anyways.

That's all I have to say on that, I wish you luck in all your egg-cooking endeavors.

As a side note, as of this afternoon I've officially mastered the art of making chicken/shrimp fried rice. Lemme know if you need any pointers.

I really love...

Having the day off work on a cold, dreary day. It's so perfect for lying in bed reading books when you first wake up, and bubblebaths, and finally doing the laundry, and doing a little baking, and going to the library, and exchanging videos, and all those little things that you otherwise wouldn't want to do if it was a really nice day outside.

I played domestic today!

I had the day off work today, so I cleaned up the house and actually went to the bank, and the bakery, and grocery shopping and baked blueberry muffins and cooked my brothers dinner (steak and boiled baby potatoes, salad and beer) and had to try to keep it hot while they took forever to come upstairs from doing woodworking and then decided they had to not only shower first, but give themselves a haircut. Dinner was great, though.

It was nice and all. The whole domestic thing. But somehow... I have this strange aversion. This nagging voice in me keeps getting all panicky and telling me that this is what marriage is- spending the day catering to and cleaning up after someone else. And part of me is totally relieved and excited about that, but the other part of me is like... yeah.

That could so easily turn ugly with the wrong person.

Randomness

So today I got all dressed up to go apply places this morning. I checked my email before I left and I had a message from my recruiter saying I start work Monday morning. This was random because no one told me I was hired? In fact, last I heard, there were supposed to be three interviews. I only attended one. I guess I was what they wanted. Fine by me.

I decided it wasn't necessary to go apply places after all. So I dressed down and went over to my sisters and baked a cake shaped like a mermaid and decorated with candy and stuff. Totally fun, but also kinda random. I mean really, who bakes mermaid cakes anymore?

So then my cousin KP came over ta hang out in the evening- chat, play darts, watch movies. You know the deal. Also random, considering she lives in Chicago and I wasn't expecting her to be in town yet.

So then it's like 1am, right? I get a drunk call from my oldest bro. He's drunk. He asks me where I am, and I say I'm at home w/KP. Then he asks me if we're going to be here all night? Random question if you ask me, considering that I live here and all. That's kinda what the 'home' thing's all about, am I right?

He goes on to tell me that he's in a bar in Milwaukee. So I ask what bar it is... and guess what. It's the very same bar that Matt and I had been planning on going to this evening, but decided not to at the last minute. How random is that? We would have randomly ran into them- they also live in Chicago- at OUR bar.

Huh. Nifty.

yummy

Sub sandwhiches from the local chinese delivery places are only good when you've been drinking.
So you know it's going to be a good meal if you wonder who's at the door when your food arrives even though you were wondering when the hell it was going to get there three minutes before.

(Or when you have a hard time adding the price and your tip on the recipt. Or when you use your backspace and delete keys more than the spacebar when posting about it afterwards)

Edit: and still have to edit your post three times.