Why do I bother? January 30, 2009

I decided not to buy groceries this week because, well, I just didn’t want to.  That means dinner was anything I could scrounge…  Meatloaf sandwich, frozen pizza (I don’t know why I love Jack’s Pizza so much, but I could have eaten a whole one the other night), and canned food stuffs.

Last night The Hippy told me my dinner was really good.  He repeated it again this morning.  What was dinner?  Brown rice and Hormel Turkey Chili with Beans, topped with Cub brand Colby/Jack cheese.  Actual amount of time cooking was less than 10mins.  The rice cooked while I was in the shower.

Remind me again why I cook real meals?

Every Face a Different Shade January 21, 2009

No, I’m not going to write about the inauguration of what I hope will be the greatest President of my life, because it’s not that I don’t care–I do, immensely–I just feel I’m better off writing about The Phantom of the Opera…

I was gleefully flying down the highway after work this afternoon–not something that happens often these days, but it was gorgeous out, we have a new president, and I got out of working on the truck today–and Masquerade came on my iPod.  I, of course, pretended I still have any operatic skills and sang my heart out.  Unfortunately for me, I started to think about the words:

Masquerade!
Paper faces on parade.
Masquerade!
Hide your face, so the world will never find you!
Masquerade!
Every face a different shade.
Masquerade!
Look around -
there’s another
mask behind you!

Flash of mauve.
Splash of puce.
Fool and king.
Ghoul and goose.
Green and black.
Queen and priest.
Trace of rouge.
Face of beast.
Faces.

Take your turn.
Take a ride.
On a merry – go – round
In an inhuman race.

Eye of gold.
Thigh of blue.
True is false.
Who is who?
Curl of lip.
Swirl of gown.
Ace of hearts.
Face of clown.
Faces.
Drink it in
Drink it up
’til you drown in the light.
In the sound.

Now… Is it just me, or are there a lot of colors listed there.  Let’s count: 6, plus the line about every face being a different shade.

But how does the movie portray the Masquerade scene?

Huh…  Weird.  There’s maybe a little gold in there.

Let’s look at the play, shall we?

As the Hippy would say: “Sheh-shaw!”  Color, excitement, pizazz!  They actually look like they want to be there.  Awesome!

Don’t get me wrong; I view the movie and the play as two very different entities.  I understand that Andrew Lloyd Webber had a major hand in the movie, which is awesome.  But seriously.  Why make that scene so freaking boring?  Even the Phantom, which is supposed to be awesome and scary and magical, is freaking boring in the movie.  Compare:

play

movie

ZZZZzzzzZZZZZzzzz–Sorry, I fell asleep there for a moment.  I guess I should be happy they even made a movie.  Even if parts of it are kind of…  laughable.  I get to enjoy it any time Rocketdog wants.  I don’t think I own it… I should probably dig through my DVDs before I embarrass myself   But the moral of this story is that Phantom is coming to the Twin Cities this spring, and I think I’m going to have to get myself tickets.  I smell a girl’s night.

Four Recipes for the Price of One January 20, 2009

I know I said I’d try one new recipe a week, but last week was a doozy!  I actually used four new recipes, to varying degrees of success.  It makes up for the fact that I pretty much only used tried and trues the week before.

Photo from Kraftfoods.com

First up was the Beefy One-Pot Dinner.  There was a brief moment of panic when The Hippy told me he didn’t like baked beans.  Who on earth doesn’t like baked beans?  He said he’d eat anything except seafood, though, and after trying it he decided that the baked beans blended in just fine.  I would absolutely make this again.  It was easy, tasty, and everyone commented on how great it smelled at work.

Photo from Kraftfoods.com

Next up was the Spinach and Bacon Pasta Toss.  I don’t know what to say about this recipe.  I would probably feel so much better about it if my day had gone better.  I made this the day I got the paper cut under my fingernail.  I then proceeded to get spinach stuck under the very same nail.  I burned half the bacon, spilled a nearly entirely full box of spaghetti onto our not-so-clean floor, and forgot to save the pasta water.  I think it tasted fine, and The Hippy said he liked it, but my memory of that day has soured the thought of the recipe for me.

Moving on…

Photo from Fabulousfoods.com

The Hippy got it into his head that we need to make homemade pizza “from scratch.”  I was a bit nervous since I’ve never been fond of handmade pizza and I’ve never made pizza dough before.  I’m happy to report that thanks to Mitch’s Basic Pizza Dough and Easy Peesy Pizza Sauce, we made an amazing pizza.  It was huge.  It could easily make two small to medium pizzas or four personal pizzas.  We opted to make four, so to speak, invisibly dividing the dough on our cookie sheet into quarters.  The whole thing had pepperoni on it, but we also had olives (green and black), chopped garlic, and mushrooms in their own quarters (the fourth being plain pepperoni).  I really thought this pizza was nearly perfect, but The Hippy wants to try to make something more Uno-like, since that’s what this pizza reminded us of (and our Uno, which was the location of many of our first dates, closed awhile ago).  So I found this Pizzeria Uno Chicago Deep Dish Pizza recipe that we’re going to make next.

Coming Soon: Slow Cooker Swiss Steak and Spinach Orzo.  At least.

Dear Drivers in the Twin Cities Metro Area January 14, 2009

Stop being so douchy.  There.  I said it.  I have to spent 5x more time in my truck now, and the general population on the road is starting to make me angry.  Let’s go over DK’s rules of the road, shall we?

The speed limit is just that: the limit.  Don’t expect me to drive faster than that.  You’re welcome to, just don’t cut close to my truck as you’re weaving in and out of the lanes.  That doesn’t tell me I’m going slow, it just tells me you’re a jerk.  Listen.  My gas milage is more important to me than ever.  I’m not going to go over 60.  If the limit is 55, I’m going to go 55.  If the limit is 60, I’m going to hover around 59-60.  This doesn’t happen often, but when the limit is 65, I’m going to go 60.  Just get over it.  Go around me if it’s convenient, but don’t you dare ride my ass, or I will go slower.

I will admit now that I’m a hypocrite.  But only if you’re being a jerk.  If you’re a jerk, I will be a jerk right back.  In addition to going slower when someone tailgates me, I will do anything in my power to keep people from darting in and out of lanes in a vain attempt to get someplace faster.  I will try really hard to keep pace with the cars around me just so someone can’t keep switching lanes.  Don’t get me wrong, I won’t block people who are calmly trying to get around me.  It’s the cars you see in your mirror, or the ones ahead of you that you happen to catch up with zinging left and right after every car they pass.

Speaking of speeding…  If you can’t make a turn while staying in your lane, you’re going too fast.  I’m tired of being pushed out of my lane by people who insist on straddling the line as they pass me.  I’m not talking tire on the line, I’m talking about two feet into my lane.  Foot off gas, hang up the phone, head out of ass… whatever.  Just get out of my lane.  I’m very possessive.  Especially when it comes to living.  Look, if a road is under construction and the lanes are narrower than they used to be…. and the curves are sharper… you can’t drive the same way you did before they started tearing things up.  It’s just a fact of life.  Chill out, slow down, and enjoy the ride.

I try to take a rather zen approach to driving.  I avoid road rage, mostly because I don’t think it’s healthy to get upset over such little things.  But my dander is up, and I needed something to post about anyway.  Plus I “read” the lolcat book today, and there’s a road rage kitty that cracks me up.  Similar to the picture I used, but not quite.  Couldn’t find it online, but I didn’t try very hard.  I stopped when I found that one.

PS: I am the queen of hurting myself!  I got a paper cut under my right index finger nail, a TAPE cut on my right middle finger (yes, I cut myself on a piece of tape!), and a cardboard cut on my right thumb.  I was going for all five, but alas… Maybe tomorrow.

Muzak January 10, 2009

I have this thing about store music.  Even at its worst, I love having music play in my store.  When the music is absent, I feel at a loss.  If someone turns down the music in the break room, I turn it back up when no one is looking.  I think it has something to do with the fact that I don’t like silence.  I’ve been fighting this urge during the last week with the Hippy.  It’s not that I don’t want to talk to him, but I feel like if I’m working on something, there should be music playing.  Cleaning, building, sewing… whatever.  There should be music and talking.

I digress.

Store music.  My thing about store music is that if I happen into a store, and a song I consider special comes on, I feel as if I’m meant to be in that store at that moment.  I suddenly just realized why I never want to linger in Target.  No matter how awesome Target is, they sorely lack in making me feel special with their music.

I haven’t always had this feeling.  I only just (relatively) recently started noticing how this music makes me feel.  It began last year when I was at Liten Paper buying padded envelopes.  Normally I don’t get excited about The Twelve Days of Christmas (God, she’s talking about Christmas music again??  This is the last time this… post.  I swear.), but when I realized it was The Muppets and John Denver singing The Twelve Days of Christmas, it took every ounce of strength to not jump around with joy.  I did, however, linger in the store until the song ended, despite the fact that I was on my way to the checkout when it started.

Next was an impromptu trip to Burrlington Coat Factory a few months ago to find the most amazing boots I had seen online.  My store didn’t have them, but as I headed toward the lingerie department (I firmly believe nothing makes a girl happier than new undergarments, and I’m a sucker for fancy and novel… And dirt cheap), my beloved Blue October played on the radio.  That link leads to the video for the song that played.  I fell in love with it at work.  It plays on the fall/winter rotation which is far, far superior to the spring/summer rotation.  I just feel at peace when I hear that song.  And most other Blue October songs, which is why Blue October Radio on Pandora still remains my favorite.

The other day I went grocery shopping in my new locale.  I’m not fond of new things, especially when I have to drive to them.  Cub Foods has been winning me over lately purely by their selection of Malt-O-Meal cereals, but they also consistently have rockin’ music.  So maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised when She & Him started playing.  Click again for the video of the song, but I don’t recommend actually watching the video…  It’s a little on the disturbing side.  But hearing the song made me feel like that was where I was supposed to be at that moment.  It was slightly empowering.

Am I alone in this, or is store music just a nuisance for most people?

Donde Esta El Card Reader January 8, 2009

I’d post pictures of various portions of my new home, but I seem to have misplaced my card reader.  I’m seriously against using the dock for my camera, even though I know exactly where it is…  My pictures just aren’t important enough to warrant angering myself with something oh so petty.

What I’ve been busy with, thereby keeping me from blogging about anything:

• Cleaning 5o years worth of hair out of the bathtub drain
• Building shelves and craft desks
• Watching obscene amount of House–So THAT’S how he pissed off that cop…
• Teaching The Hippy how to make stove-top popcorn.  Poor dear thought it could only come from a microwave.
• Watching Bob Ross and other PBS shows I wouldn’t otherwise watch because we’ll never ever have cable again.
• Sneaking back under the guise of “getting more stuff,” but really snuggling the kitties because it will also be a long time before I have a cat.
• Washing obscene amounts of dishes and praying I don’t get another finger infection.  I can’t find my gloves, and I’m too stubborn to go to the store (see above regarding camera dock).
• Reading Marley and Me and trying not to get caught crying.
• Sewing little bits and bits because my sewing stuff is still in a complete disarray.
• Getting cut off by various odd cars on the highways between new and old homes and new home and work: state patrol–no lights on, school bus, semi, and two limos on two consecutive days in the exact same spot on the highway.

What I really, really need is a night with my buddies, though.  We’ve all been too busy.  I will shake my fist until someone can figure out a way to get us all together.

Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours… January 1, 2009

My New Year’s Eve started at 5am and ended at 5am.  Awesome.  Now that’s what I call a party.

Beginning: I need to learn to let go.  I find it impossible to take a vacation from work because I trust very few people to do my job right.  Not that I think my job is hard or special, mind you, I just don’t think they have the time to care.  Before promotion I was doing two jobs–my old job and my current job.  I felt like I was doing it all the time.  You’d think I’d feel less stressed out now that I’m back to just one job, but I’m not.  At least not lately.  Communication has plummeted, and it resulted in me accidentally finding out I not only had to change the entire apparel department, but I had to mark down all the old stuff before the beginning of FM Jan (Jan 4).  So I got up at 5 to get as much done a possible, and stayed an hour late for the same.  I was actually able to call in the one person I trust, no matter how suspiciously, which meant I didn’t have to stay three hours late….  I will go in on Saturday for the markdown, meaning that I went from a 30 hour week to “holy crap, I can’t stay anymore or I’ll go into OT!”

Pre-Middle: I went to Target after work to get supplies.  Also looked for shoes and socks, because who doesn’t love shoes and socks.  Discovered these:

Aside from being ridiculously cute… and clearance… and not in my size… They’re also lined with one of my favorite Alexander Henry fabrics of all time.  I know it’s hard to see, but I have proof of its existence outside of the shoe and inside of my stash:

Must find those shoes…….

Middle: The best, best, best part of New Years Eve is fondue.  Everyone should do the ‘due.  I don’t care if it’s cheese, oil, or chocolate, it should be mandatory.  I do not, however, recommend combining any of those unless, perhaps, over the course of an entire day.  Certainly don’t attempt it in one evening.  I know this from experience.  New this year was tempura batter and parboiled potatoes.  When BILOSORD’s buddy accidentally added his potato to the pot without battering it, twice fried potatoes were born.  And eaten repeatedly.  I breifly considered getting more potatoes from the kitchen, but I figured we had to cut outselves off somewhere.  This is the first time that I can remember that fondue didn’t end with someone (me….) laughing so hard they (I….) cried.  We stopped because we ran out of cheese and potatoes.  And room in our stomachs.  We were all pretty tired, though.

I passed out on the couch after dinner, and I pretty sure after Rocket Puppy was sent to bed, Rocketdog passed out for a bit too.  I headed home, intending to go to bed, shortly after the ball dropped (…the tape delayed ball).

The End: When I got home, The Hippy IMed me to see if I had gotten his text message, and was apparently bummed that I didn’t respond.  What I didn’t know was that I hadn’t gotten the message, and thought he was talking about something entirely different.  Twenty minutes later, it showed up.  I decided the message couldn’t find me because I was driving.  I turned right, and it kept going straight.  Silly text message.  But what followed was one of the longest, most awesome philosophical discussions we’ve ever had.  “We’re going to be living together and sharing everything, so I might as well tell you what I believe.”  Which is not to say he hadn’t told me before, it was just a much deeper and livelier discussion.  When my alarm clock went off, I knew it was probably time to go to bed.  Call me crazy, but I’m a sucker for talking to him.  The first time we ever chatted with each other, I only got a couple hours of sleep.  I’m looking forward to not having to chat online (both of us hate the phone).

And now I get to go move.  Right now.  Literally.  Five hours of sleep!  wooooo!  Actually, I think I’m going to eat some potatoes first