Inane Chatter

I can’t multi-task anymore.  I probably never could, but it didn’t used to be so obvious.  If my brain isn’t ready for, oh, let’s say…work, then work isn’t going to happen.  But when I’ve flipped the work switch to ON (and all connections have been made – no shorts here), then work is all I can do.  It’s all I can do, it’s all I can think about, and it’s all I can talk about.  It’s really annoying.  It’s fine during the workday, of course, but REALLY not okay once I’m home.  I don’t have that kind of job.  And look what I’m doing right now!  Stop it.

Hey, brisket sandwiches!  Are a wonderful thing.  I had one for lunch.  And we’re having leftover non-Mexican chicken corn chowder for dinner.  Because it turned out pretty yummy.

No segue.  Just videos. (Both are from The Daily What via wherever those guys found them. Video 1. Video 2.)

My favorite people are the ones who danced with the guy. I think I’d be one of them.

This is fantastic. Question: could it really be the cat’s first experience with snow? How did the cameraperson know to be ready?

I have been taken over by a pod person.  Wait – I am a pod person.  I’ve been taken over by a pod?  I think it happened when I almost tripped over that squirrel yesterday.  Not that I traded places with the squirrel.  That would be more like a Freaky Friday scenario.  Hey, I was never really into that whole body snatchers thing, so I don’t know the details.  My point is that I’m not acting like myself.  This is a big build-up for just one thing, but it’s kind of a big thing for me.  Are you ready?  I COOKED today.  Like multiple things, so we’d have food for lunches and stuff the rest of the week.  Can you believe it?  It’s an obvious thing that lots of people do, but that’s my point.  I don’t do it.  I never have.  But now I have a brisket all cooked and cooling on top of the oven and chicken corn chowder simmering on the stove.  (It was originally supposed to be Mexican chicken corn chowder, but since John doesn’t do spicy, I left out the chiles, and I’m thinking that means it doesn’t count as Mexican anymore.)

Aaaaannnnd here’s why I don’t cook much.  I just stepped away from the laptop to check out the soup (and maybe take a picture), and I found that the soup was bubbling, and when I went to stir it, much of it was stuck to the bottom of the pot.  I only turned up the heat because John noticed that it wasn’t particularly hot (when he tasted it).  I didn’t mean to leave it…I suck at cooking.  I don’t think it’s ruined.  I lowered the heat a lot and stirred a lot, and most of it looks fine.  We’ll see.

We live in a very safe area.  I knew this already, but it was reinforced for me tonight.  I went out to pick up dinner from Noodles & Company (mac and cheese with meatballs for John, Bangkok curry with shrimp for me), which is located in one of those new mixed-use shopping centers, with lots of apartments upstairs and lots of shops and restaurants downstairs.  I parked right across from the place, went in, got ignored by the staff for a few minutes (for no reason I could tell – the place was completely empty), ordered our food, read my book while waiting, got the food, and left.  I was in there for maybe 15 minutes.  I walked outside and noticed my car immediately.  “Why is that so unusual?” you may ask.  “Surely you know where you parked, and since it was “right across from the place”, why wouldn’t you look right at it?”  “Well,” I might answer, “it was dark and lots of people drive cars like mine, so shut up.”  Most people, however, do NOT leave the driver’s side door open, even if it means the dome light will be on to welcome you in (which is what I saw immediately, by the by).  I’ll admit to being a little hesitant as I got closer to the car.  I mean, obviously I must have left the door open.  I seriously doubt some car thief got into my car and then left it like that.  But what if a crazy murderer had taken the opportunity to hide in my backseat?  Well, again, the light was on, and I could see that there wasn’t anyone in the car.  Couldn’t see into the back, though, so I checked the trunk, too.  THEN I got in and went home.  (Confession: I wasn’t that scared. There were lots of people around to hear me scream if I HAD found someone in the car.)  The real question is this: how on EARTH did I get out of the car and not close the door?  Usually, John gets on me because I slam it instead of closing it gently.  And it wasn’t just ajar or not quite latched – it was OPEN.  I can’t even blame this on the cold medicine.  Today was my first unmedicated day since Friday.  I should maybe just go to bed.  After I eat the rice krispie treat I’m pretty sure I got for free.  Maybe the guy felt bad for ignoring me.

Miserable at home today*, but at least it’s drizzly and icky outside, too.  Better to have the outside match the inside today.  After I stopped working, I rushed for the internet looking for fun distractions.  I was disappointed.  I managed to spend several hours being distracted, but nothing stuck out as wonderfully fun today.  I might not be in the right mood.  I am in the mood for a fig newton, though.  Hey, I might be hungry again.  It’s amazing how much I don’t feel like eating much when I can’t taste anything.  Anyway, the internet failed me this evening, and I just don’t know if I can forgive it.  Also, I don’t know if I can continue making sense under the influence of cold medicine.  I was about to wax rhapsodic about Stanley Tucci.

*Today was better than yesterday – I’m definitely improving.

Hey, guys.  It’s miserable me, checking in.  I have a cold.  I think I put up a good fight yesterday, but I gave in when we got home last night, and I have spent all of today on the couch.  I watched a couple episodes of Arrow and a pre-election episode of SNL with John this morning, and I watched two episodes of Glee after he went upstairs to do some programming.  (He gave up on Glee a long time ago.  I’m not entirely sure why I haven’t yet.)  I think I’m TV’d out for now, and I just took some more medicine, so I’m going to curl up under a blanket and read for a while until John gets hungry.  And then I think we’re going to order Chinese so I can have egg drop soup.  I love egg drop soup, even when I can’t taste it.

Update: I burned my tongue on the egg drop soup.  Go me.

I baked today.  In fact, I’m still baking.  And I need to check on my pies – the last thing I need is burned pie after all that effort.

So far so good.  Now, at least.  I was up to my elbows in pie filling about an hour ago.  I pulled up my recipe (yes, MY recipe – eleven Thanksgivings ago, I experimented until I came up with the ideal sweet potato pie recipe), checked that I had everything to make two pies (I had double the ingredients listed in my recipe), and threw the sweet potatoes (I got them before breakfast this morning) into a pot to boil.  All EIGHT largish sweet potatoes, because my recipe called for four.  They boiled forever, and then they cooled, and then I got my mixer out.  I peeled four of them, put them in the mixer, and realized that was about all that would fit.  Okay, no problem, I’ll just get one pie ready, then do the second.  I mixed everything together, pulled out my pie crusts (I make pie filling, not pie crusts), filled one of them, and realized I had enough filling left in the bowl for a whole ‘nother pie.  What?  So I filled the second pie crust.  (I may have overfilled it a little.)  Then I looked at the other FOUR giant sweet potatoes that were sitting there in the pot, already cooked, just waiting to be peeled and turned into pie.  I had one more pie crust because I always buy one extra (I usually have enough filling left over for a little pie), but that clearly wasn’t going to be enough.  I put the two pies that were ready to go into the oven, shoved the dogs into the backyard so they wouldn’t be tempted to counter-surf for drops of pie filling, and raced to the nearest grocery store for another pie crust.  (I get nervous leaving the house with the oven on.)  I got there, picked up one crust, grabbed a set of six mini-pie crusts (perfect for that little bit of filling left over, right?), and raced back home.  Nothing burned down, so I made the rest of the pie filling.  Turns out those last four sweet potatoes were ALL bigger than the first four, so after I filled the other two regular size pie crusts, I had enough filling left in the bowl for at least another whole pie.  No more whole crusts, though, so I filled the six little mini crusts and called my neighbor Beth.  “Anyone in the family allergic to pie?  No?  Wonderful!  ‘Cause I seem to have vastly overestimated how many sweet potatoes I needed to cook.”  She opted for the mini pies, so John and I are now discussing who we’re giving the fourth pie to.  (We’re keeping one, and two are slated for Thanksgiving dessert.)  It has to be someone we’ll see in the next day or two, so it’ll either be a work friend or another neighbor.  Tough choices to make.

Anyway, I have now added the crucial information that was missing from my recipe.  My sweet potato pie recipe, as written, makes TWO pies.  Never forget.

We made it through the big storm unscathed.  Well, I haven’t been outside yet, so I guess there could be some damage, but we didn’t hear anything, and John went in to work both days, so he would have seen something.  Last night was the only time the winds really picked up.  Even the rain is finally letting up.  That’s very good news, since Riley is a little stir-crazy.  He spent a lot of today gazing longingly out the front window.

I did a bad, bad thing today.  I opened the giant bag of mini Snickers.  I kept it in the other room, but that didn’t stop me as much as I was hoping it would.  I will be doing my best (over John’s objections, I’m sure) to give away every last bit of this candy tomorrow night.

You can’t tell by looking out the window today, but apparently, the world is going to end soon.  Probably Tuesday.  Judging by the crowd at Wegmans this morning, though, everyone is pessimistic about that and planning for the apocalypse to occur tomorrow.  Yes, I was part of that crowd, but not for the same reasons.  Not out of panic.  I went because we had NO food in the house.   You know, the normal reason you go to the grocery store.  Something I’ve been avoiding for the past couple of weeks because, I don’t know, going to the grocery store sucks.  I went, and we have food, but we’re still going out for dinner tonight because I told one of the neighbors we were (as my excuse not to go to her house for bunko).  She lives across the street, so we kinda have to actually leave the house.  Damn.

I’m supposed to be going to yoga tonight.  I don’t want to.  I had a facial today, so I’m plenty relaxed, and I want to stay home.  I want to stay home and read and play on the internet and watch TV and do laundry (okay, that’s more of a need than a want) and stay home.  Also, I want to stay home.

Toast and tea (decaf English Breakfast) for dinner.  Yum.

We’re* two-thirds through a three-day weekend.  Already.  And poor John doesn’t have tomorrow off.  Of course, he gets the week between Christmas and New Year’s off, so I don’t feel that sorry for him.  We had a good couple of days together.  Yesterday was all about the yard.  We got up early, grabbed breakfast, picked up 16 bags of dirt from Home Depot (I think it was our shortest trip to Home Depot ever), scooped and mowed the back yard, raked up the bare spots, put down dirt and seed, put up temporary fencing, blocked the dogs from getting under the deck (and sneaking into the new dirt that’s calling out for digging), and mowed the front yard.  All before 2pm.  We were really rushing at one point because it looked like the skies were about to open and we didn’t want to get soaked.  False alarm.  That must have been the cold front coming through, though, because the temperature dropped pretty quickly after that.

Today has been chilly and damp.  A perfect day to go to the Waterford Fair!  We got all dressed up in our hiking-in-Wales attire (so called because that’s why we bought that stuff – boots and coats and hats) and headed to lovely historic Waterford, which had been taken over by Civil War reenactors (is that really a word?) and craftspeople for the weekend.  John carried his umbrella around the whole time, so it didn’t rain on us.  We tramped all over town (it’s not very big), shared a hot dog, some mac and cheese, some hot chocolate, and a funnel cake, met some chickens and puppies and sheep, listened to a couple of bluegrass bands, and took care of birthday presents for John’s mom (a little late) and Gaby (early for once, if I can manage to ship it soon).

Tomorrow I plan to clean out some closets.  I have shoes and clothes to get rid of, and I need to clear out the linen closet and the cabinet in my bathroom.  That might be too ambitious for one day, since I also plan to make a quick run to the mall, but we’ll see how far I get.  I’ll be up early since John has to get up for work, so that should help.

Dinner is wine and bread and olive oil.  I’m kinda surprised I’m feeling hungry now, after all that food at Waterford, but that was 3 or 4 hours ago…

*”What’s this we bullshit?”  -John

I’m always disappointed by falafel.  I get it every once in a while, but I never end up happy about it.  Today’s lunch was a falafel, hummus, and cucumber wrap.  Should have been delicious.  It sure sounds like something I would like.  But it was so very BORING.  Part of the problem may have been that there wasn’t any actual hummus in the wrap.  It was more like a hummus-flavored watery mayo.  The other part of the problem was that the falafel was only so-so.  I’m not trying to say that all falafel is boring.  I’m very willing to concede that I’ve never had really good falafel.  I certainly hope that’s the case.  Knowing that there is good falafel out there in the world gives me strength.  Or hope.  Or something.  But I think I’m done with falafel until someone I trust gives me a recommendation.

Also, the nice man who makes my salad at Panera recognizes me and waves when I walk in the door.  It’s time to start grocery shopping again.

Today didn’t turn out quite like I thought it would.  We were out late last night (we met Emily at her new place for dinner), so we slept late this morning, dawdled about breakfast, and kinda puttered around all day.  It’s been a nice day, don’t get me wrong, but I kinda had plans for it that I never put into action.

I did go to Wegmans, though, so I was able to do something productive.  Actual grocery shopping that resulted in real healthy food at home will certainly help us eat right this week.  But it’s not going to keep us from having nachos for dinner.  Because we’re stupid.

Now I have to decide something really important.  For the second time today, since I finished Little Brother last night and read Coraline this afternoon.  What am I going to read next?

Lunch today with John: frozen yogurt at a local Sweet Frog.  Delicious, low(ish) in calories, not at all nutritious.  Perfect for a Friday.  Of course, then we noticed the sign near the register that says that F.R.O.G stands for Fully Rely On God.  Really?  It’s frozen yogurt, for crying out loud.  So maybe Zinga! (which has no religious affiliations or views) will remain our favorite local frozen yogurt spot.  (John has threatened to stop talking to me if I call it froyo one more time.  Froyo is right up there with vacay in his list of annoying words.  I don’t really disagree, except when it comes to veggies.  I refuse to give up veggies.)

I did the dumbest thing ever today.  I routinely forget my leftovers in the downtown office fridge, but this time really hurts.  I took a coworker out to lunch (annual appraisal) at Chef Geoff’s today.  It’s a little nicer than a typical lunch out, but SO worth it.  They do interesting and delicious things.  I had the tarragon cured salmon sandwich – salmon, egg salad, capers, boursin cheese, some arugula.  It was incredible.  And it was huge.  I didn’t even finish half of it, but I most certainly had the rest boxed up to take with me.  Got it back to the office, got it in the fridge, got my coworker to help me remember to bring it home.  I saw her as I was getting ready to leave a few hours later, and I remembered.  I had a plan: go to the bathroom, pick up my sandwich, go home.  Instead, I went to the bathroom and then I went home.  I had to walk right by the kitchen door, so it shouldn’t have been a problem.  I should have said it out loud.  I remembered as I was crossing the Potomac into Virginia.  TOO LATE!  I was sad.  Still am.  I’m not going back downtown until next week (WAY too late), so I called my coworker and asked her to find it a good home.

Sad panda is sad.

When my toast came out of the toaster this morning, it was clear that we’d been blessed by a visit from Mickey Mouse.  Made my morning.

Keeping the magic alive.

John (with Emily’s help) bought this for me on our last day.

I had a couple of half-formed ideas of things to write about today, but they’re pretty much gone.  Or far enough away that I don’t have more than a sentence.  You know, like how Jess’s phone called me without her knowledge this afternoon, and how I can’t get enough avocado lately, so I was terribly disappointed when I asked to have avocado added to my sandwich from Panera this evening and they left it off and I didn’t realize until I got home and then it was too late and I was sad.  I had avocado in my salad for lunch (Au Bon Pain – spinach, egg, bacon, avocado, chicken, black beans, honey mustard, and a little more avocado – oh wow good), so it’s not like I had to get through the whole day avocado-less.  Just dinner.

Insert Homer Simpson drooling noise

Mom has made some really good book choices lately.  The last two books I read (well, the one I’m reading now and the one I just read) were her recommendations, and I am very happy with them.  That’s not to say that her recommendations aren’t normally trustworthy – they very much are – but sometimes I need more persuading.  Maybe I’m just being stubborn for no reason.  Or for the same reason John gets stubborn he’s looking for his next book and I send a continuous stream of suggestions his way.  Suggestion overload!  Anyway, I think the best thing – okay, best things about these latest two are a) I knew almost nothing about them before I read them, and 2) they are not at all similar to each other but are both really good.  And good to read back to back, for reasons I have not yet thought out.  And I really like that I hardly knew anything about them.  Mom told me the premise of The Age of Miracles, but she told me absolutely nothing about Gone Girl, and I think I kind of prefer it that way.  John and I work pretty hard to avoid spoilers for movies and TV shows, avoiding just about anything that mentions them.  We really like going into these things with no preconceptions.  With books, you’ve usually got the cover, the blurb on the back, some expectation based on the genre or author or something.  With Gone Girl, since I’m reading it on the Kindle, I don’t have anything but the title and the author’s name.  In the long run, I can see how that might make it difficult to decide what to read next since I often decide based on what genre I’m in the mood for, but once in a while starting a book completely in the dark about it is fun.

Speaking of my book, I’d really like to read it now, so, you know.  Bye.

The gym at night is a peaceful place.  I know I won’t work out tomorrow (going to visit Jess and Chuck – yay!), and Sunday will depend a lot on when we get home, so I figured I’d squeeze in an extra workout tonight.  Especially after IHOP for dinner.  The gym is open until 10pm on weeknights, and most nights there are still people there pretty late.  Not tonight, though.  I walked in at 8 and I had the place to myself.  It was kinda nice.  None of the TVs were on and neither was the music, so the only sounds were my own.  I could pretend it was my own private gym.  No annoying people allowed.

As if on cue, Riley came over and shoved his dripping head into my lap just then.  (He’s a messy drinker.)  I’ve got to pay him some special attention to make up for boarding him overnight tomorrow.

Good night!

Sure, I had a nice long walk with the dogs, an even nicer long talk with someone I haven’t talked to in forever, a healthy dinner (French Country Salad FTW!), and an evening bike ride with John.  You’d think that would be enough for one evening, but you’d be wrong.  No, I didn’t leave enough time to make banana bread, and so I must hang my head in shame.  I’m a failure.  Also, those bananas aren’t gonna make it much longer.  Double failure.

I can’t eat any more.  I mean it.  I’ll explode.  This whole week – too much.  And now just about everything feels like too much.  I met John for lunch at Panera today, and after just half a sandwich and a small salad, I felt like I’d eaten a house.  Dinner tonight (before yoga) is decaf tea and a piece of toast with peanut butter.  I’m not so sure that won’t feel like too much, too.

I went to lunch with a coworker today (I kind of had to, even though I’m considering never eating again after this week) at the Cheesecake Factory, ordered the chicken salad sandwich, only ate half, and put the other half in a box to bring home.  And then I left the box in the car.  For four hours.  In this crazy heat.  And then I remembered it and threw it away.

Good story, right?  Here’s another.

Every once in a while, we find a peanut hidden somewhere in the yard.  Not hidden very well, actually, but you can tell it’s supposed to be kind of out of the way.  Once there was in a flower pot.  We found another one in a crack on the steps to the porch, and today John found one in the mulch under a bush.  And when I say peanut, I don’t mean one that’s ready to eat.  We’re talking circus peanuts.  Bar peanuts.  Still in the shell.  Like Mr. Peanut, but without the top hat, cane, and monocle (more’s the pity).  So…we think we have an industrious little squirrel or chipmunk or something, hiding peanuts away for winter.  We have no idea where the peanuts are coming from.

Maybe it’s not a chipmunk.  Maybe, just maybe, there’s an elephant tiptoeing around our yard hiding peanuts.  And maybe it’s invisible.  And silent.