I've been assigned to a project where I have to work with someone who just doesn't get it. I may have mentioned this before. Nearly every email of meeting minutes requires some sort of response from me where I have to again explain my role, my responsibility, my product output, etc. It is really annoying to have to keep doing that. I need to figure out a way to distance myself from the inevitable fallout.
This project also requires my asking for new software which I would really like to learn how to use--it will be a nice addition to my resume and handy for when I decide to move on to greener pastures. The downside is that I can hardly wait to request purchase of software that costs more than a grand. It took ages for us to purchase and receive thumb drives. I can only imagine the wringing of hands and feet-dragging this new request will bring.
I visited the dentist yesterday and received two fillings. My tongue will not leave the upper one alone. I've decided I don't like this turn of events whatsoever. Today at lunch the chill of the iced tea bothered my lower tooth--the tooth with the filling that really amounts to caulk in a deep groove. I've never had tooth sensitivity before so this feeling had better scram.
The MIL is having a bunch of people over this afternoon for dinner and to watch old home movies she had converted from film to DVD. The better-half has been taking the DVDs and attempting to make sense of them since they are out of time order. That is a scene from the 1950s is followed by one from the 1970s. He showed me a little of one yesterday that had been double-exposed. There were people at a backyard barbeque from one moment in time and kids and dogs running around like little specters from another moment in time all sharing the same frames. As he says, the family was never much good at technology.
The MIL is serving lasagna and wanted all of the lasagna to be gluten-free. Um no. She's the only one with the disease and she's on a mission to force everyone to eat gluten-free all the time. Since we were tasked with making the lasagna we made two small trays of gluten-free (by small we used the 8X8 pans). I tasted a cooked noodle and it wasn't bad. I think it resembled those whole wheat noodles that are out now. Which is kind of weird since these gluten-free noodles were made from rice. Not bad, but I'm not going to work on making lasagna for 5 hours and then eat something I don't particularly like.
Some of the supplies were stacked neatly. We ended up not using all the Barilla noodles. The better-half had planned on making 4 trays of regular lasagna but we cut it back to three:
He found a wonderful sauce recipe. I usually use the one on the back of the noodle box:
We set up stations around the kitchen in order to process all the lasagna trays:
The better-half had never made lasagna before. I was stunned to learn this. He's only assisted me when I've made them and his mother never made them when he was growing up because she said they were too hard. Yes, the crazy talk has always been present.
His first pan:
The pans of lasagna are stored in every available cold place we have. Some are stacked in a cooler in the garage with ice packs around them. Some are in our refrigerator. They'll all be fully cooked at the MIL's house. I hope her oven is large enough.
We have three large loaves of bread, salad ingredients, dessert and DVDs to take over in a few hours. Dessert is pound cake. And, yes, we're aware she can't have it. She's taking care of the gluten-free cake/dessert. Frankly, her desserts always taste terrible. I don't know why she doesn't let us do the gluten-free desserts because ours are better. Because we pay attention to the recipe and cook times. Shocking how that works out.
Since I titled this entry Fancy Feast, here's Simon eating some:
All good things must end or so they say. I went to the dentist this morning and they prodded me with a really long pick and I just let them go at it because my teeth are awesome (well, except for the one that got smacked with a softball and died) and I never have tooth pain. As it turns out those deep grooves in my teeth are harboring bacteria and I have two pre-cavities. So, I'm having the grooves filled in next week. A third tooth is under surveillance and may or may not need anything done to it. I'm turning 40 this year and I guess it really is all downhill from here. After next Tuesday I can no longer brag that I don't have fillings.
The dead tooth? It's been dead since I was a teenager and I suppose if you are paying attention to my teeth you can tell one of the front ones is a different color. Maybe when it gets troublesome they can put a custom tooth in there for me--maybe a tooth with a nice etching on it or some color. I think a big black front tooth would be super awesome for a day or two to freak people out.
After the trip to the dentist I went by the oil change place and had the car's oil changed. Isn't it fun to watch how people act in the little waiting room? Fellas, it's an oil change and not your wife giving birth. Seriously, the men pacing about was annoying. Just sit down, read Car & Driver and shut up, already.
1/20/08-1/20/09
Only one more year of monkey boy in the white house.
Last night we were supposed to have mussels for dinner, but when I got home the better-half greeted me with "Guess who's headed to the hospital right now?" and so we'll be having mussels tonight if they don't die before then. We guess the better-half's mother goes to the ER about once every 3 months and so it was time, apparently, to go yesterday. Before you feel bad for her keep in mind there's never anything wrong except she mismanages her medication, which means she doesn't take it, and presses the lifealarm and away she goes to the hospital. Last night they did a couple of tests, gave her medication, some potassium and food. Thank goodness for health insurance. Personally, I can think of a million better places to have dinner than in the ER. And, yes, she's on a list for assisted living. Thankyewjesus.
We're due for another horrible weather system which will probably turn out to be 30 minutes of snow and an afternoon of rain like last time, but I swear if you watch local teevee, you'd think we had lake effect snow headed our way. Seriously, how many times do we need to see an earnest reporter standing next to the sand pile at the local VDOT yard?
Today was a long day at work. There was hardly anyone there and I had to finish reading some of the most boring and repetitive documents ever written. And, I had to deal with the barrage of emails from the nitwit. Speaking of repetitive, I had to finally move this entry over into Word since the damn spell check isn’t working and that really pisses me off especially over such a simple word. Have I even needed spell check since I couldn’t get repetitive right? No. But, still I’m typing this in Word and grrrr.
This week begins the get off your ass and walk on the treadmill extravaganza. I’ve only walked two days (today and yesterday). Monday I started one of my classes and I figured walking across campus carrying a bag of library books and my briefcase/book bag full of books should count as exercise. Because, all told I think I was carrying 8 books and two notebooks and the various other things in my bag and those books were scholarly hard backs so it was like carrying a hippo across campus.
Tonight there’s a threat of wintery weather and I say bring it. Any bets that I’ll wake up in the morning and have to drive in rain instead of staying at home and watching it snow?
We didn't see many music acts last year but things are looking up in 2008. Tonight we're headed out to see The Richmond Symphony. It's a pops concert and our seats are way up front. I think they are the same seats we had last year for the Out of the Blue Radio Review show.
I just purchased tickets to the Pat Benatar and Neil Giraldo show at the newest venue in town, The National. The National is an old movie theater on East Broad that has been shuttered for years. I used to work at the other end of the block and walked by the theater every day. I had no idea what it was, other than it was obviously an old theater. I'm excited that there's a new music venue in town and that I'll finally get to see the interior.
Speaking of new venues, we still haven't been to Toad's Place or to the listening room addition to the Capital Ale House. The last time I went to Capital Ale House, for some very quaffable Virginia beer, I checked out the new space next door and it looks like a good place to listen to music.
There's this thing that some people do that's really starting to get on my nerves.
Someone I am just beginning to work with (it is so obvious she's over her head or just slow on the uptake) who has asked me more than once to be honest and tell her when she's asking for something that I'm contractually unable to provide. She's also asked that I tell her when X, Y or Z is out of line. These are things aren't bad but what's bad is that she follows up with the question you'll tell me, right?
Mmm, let me think. As much as I want to rule the planet, I'm not actively seeking the downfall of others (dream will never be realized), so why would I set someone up to fail? When someone asks me if I'd tell them, immediately following a conversation about open communication in a working relationship, if I'd be open and honest, it really makes me want to make the Fist of Death.
I received one of my textbooks today. It's Rapid Instructional Design by George M. Piskurich. The better-half saw the title and said, "it's about time you learned how to do that". The funny in that? It's what I do for a living. I have a certification in course design.
Then I took my shirt off because the gyro I had for lunch exploded down the front of me and I needed to spray it with Zout. The laundry closet is downstairs so I thought I'd take care of it before going upstairs to get a clean shirt. He got that look in his eye and said I could walk around like that all the time. I told him it would make it difficult for me to answer the door. Before I could laugh at myself, he said, "but you never answer the door anyway". Touche. Touche.
Saturday we went over to an older couple's house for dinner. I used to work with her and we really like spending time with them. The next day as we were enjoying a buffet tray of leftovers they sent home with us, I said something about wondering if their kids (who are about as old as we are) like hanging out with them or if there's the usual family strife. I'd like to think that they enjoy hanging out with their parents since there's a whole lot of world-centric conversation going on there. She is from Scotland and has a sister who lives in Canada. The couple travels and keeps abreast of current events and enjoy watching BBC because "it gives them another perspective".
The lost art of conversation. It was alive and well on Saturday night.
In the same way that The Shins saved my life (really), this beer rocks. Consider yourself informed.
I ran some errands this morning and on coming out of BJ's I noticed my right rear tire was really low. Significantly lower than the other tires and I know it wasn't like that when I started my day. I drove around to the other side of the store to the Tire Center and went in. I explained to the guy at the counter that I just got done shopping, noticed my tire was low and wondered if they could check to see if I needed air or if there was a hole in it. The guy looked at me and said what do you want me to do about it. The guy, amazingly enough, still lives. What the fuck kind of customer service is that? I just freaking told you my story and you wonder what you, the guy who works in a TIRE CENTER, are supposed to do about my busted tire. Asshole. I went through the story again, politely, and he put my car on the lift.
Turns out, lo and behold, there was what looked like a 16p nail in the tire. Imagine that.
Today at work my supervisor told me she was taking the afternoon and Friday off. Then she said I should take Friday off too. I said maybe I'd take the afternoon off. Then she said no take the whole day. I said I'd think about it. Thinking took about an hour.
I'm taking tomorrow off because, you know, re-entry is hard after twelve work-days off. I also got all my tasks for the week done by 10am today and there's only so much time I feel like sitting around at the office. You can call me lame. I'll answer.
Tomorrow I'm going to buy a decent pair of sneakers. I have a pair that I use while cutting grass/mucking around outside but I need a pair that's comfortable enough to walk in because damn I need to exercise. So the treadmill is going to be dusted off and I'm going to work this fat ass a bit more this year.
Plus, if I stay up tonight I can see these and I don't have to worry about getting up at the crack.
When the alarm went off at 5:47am (5:45 is just too early) this morning, I thought I was going to just fall out of the bed and crawl to the shower. However, by the time I was ready to leave I was all bright-eyed. Yes, I'm one of those morning people.
I got to work and it was dead quiet but there was a bottle of wine on my desk. Now, that's the way to start a day. By the time I left to go to the dreaded meeting, there were flurries outside. By the time I left the meeting, the sun was out. I somehow managed to miss the transition to sunny day since I was underground in a windowless (obviously, being underground) room. The hag I was reluctant to talk with today was surprisingly fine so I think we just got off on the wrong foot at our initial meeting. Or, she really is a hag and she was having an off day today and her original behavior is more telling.
I stopped by Office Max on the way home and had to buy a whole new organizer since there was not one refill for my old one. Which is not surprising, really, since for the past couple of years it has been harder and harder to locate refills. This organizer has a space for a photo on the cover. Kind of cheesy but the rest of the options appealed to me. I need to come up with some sort of devious picture to put in there that won't totally embarrass me in meetings but is subversive enough.
When I got home there was a package from Tonic Living, hello new futon pillows and cover (we went with the Farrow Lime fabric). And, a letter from the county telling us our house is worth $85K more than it was worth a week ago. Damn, can hardly wait to get that tax bill later this year.
We started by frying up uncured pork belly:
Then we combined the beans, the bouquet garni and other aromatics in one bowl so they'd be easier to put in the pot with the meats:
The pork shoulder went into the pot with the pork belly:
Time passed as the beans cooked. We removed the ham hock from the bean mixture and the better-half chopped the meat from the bone. It was so tender there wasn't much difficulty in chopping. The meat went back into the pot and the onion, carrot and bouquet garni came out.
Then we layered the beans, duck confit and sausage (fresh kielbasa):
The pot went into the oven to cook for a couple of hours. Since we had some time to kill we engaged in the age old tradition of burning trash in the driveway to celebrate the dawning of a new year.
We saw some people doing this on Christmas night but they were jumping the gun. Everyone knows you have to wait for the Eve.
During the cooking process, we had to check to make sure there was enough liquid in the pot:
The last stretch of cooking entailed melting butter, combining with bread chunks and then adding to the top of the dish. While the dish cooled, we warmed our bowls, opened a Cotes du Rhone and made a simple salad:
Then we ate delicious cassoulet:
