The better-half and I are thinking seriously about going to Chicago in mid/late May. What suggestions do you have? We like to eat (as you know) and we like interesting/off-beat things (as you probably also know). I’m thinking at this point it will be a long weekend. We’re hoping to be in Chicago in time to taste Hot Doug’s duck fat fries. What else should we do? Where should we stay (hotel or area or both)?
Speaking of duck, I had a portion of cassoulet at Rustica last night. Divine.
You might get the impression that I’m always in a state of crabby. I have embraced my crabbiness which may explain why I have had certain people in my life send me those Maxine cards from Hallmark. But it’s already 9:04am and I’m not crabby yet. Rejoice!
Part of the reason why I’m not crabby is I have a new water bottle. I had a Rubbermaid version that I bought at the grocery store about a year ago or so. It looked unassuming but that damn water bottle was a pain in the ass. It was hard to get into the crowded spot on the refrigerator door and it leaked. The longer I’ve had that bottle the more it has leaked. It doesn’t matter that the cap is screwed on tightly or not. Yesterday I was carrying my book bag, a lunch bag and that water bottle. In order to free up my hand, I put the water bottle in my coat pocket. By the time I got upstairs to my desk, the coat pocket was wet.
The other day I bought an Intak bottle by Thermos. It holds about 2 ounces less than the other bottle, but it doesn’t leak and has a nice feel in my hand. Unlike some other bottles–yes, I don’t know why I bought that Rubbermaid version either. The new bottle also fits perfectly into the refrigerator door. I have high hopes for this bottle. If things work out, I may actually buy another one.
I think I’ve finally realized that my situation at work is just never going to get better. It doesn’t matter if I’m grumpy or elated at work the shit just keeps sticking to the fan. Thanks economy for tanking. Get better around May 16th, won’t you? Because then I’ll have my paper and I’ll be free.
I could list all the crap that’s happened in the last two weeks but I’m afraid without hours of time explaining why it’s so bad the list will just sound like a whiny, cry baby thing and I’ll even be bored.
I got to work at 7:11 this morning. It’s 9:32 and I have no idea if my entire unit is going to come to work or not. I’ve worked what amounts to 1/4 of my day already and I have no idea if anyone I work with is going to be here today or not. And, people wonder why I’m cranky.
This morning it was cloudy when I walked out to put bird seed in the feeder. Then when I went out to throw coffee grounds and egg shells into the compost a light drizzle was falling. A few hours later and the sun started to peak out. Then dark clouds. Then a few peaks of sun. Then snow. The sun is out again. I’m thinking a thunderstorm will be next.
I’m going on a school field trip tomorrow. Things that will be different from the last time I went on a field trip:
Friday night we marinated a salmon fillet in salt, pepper and lemon olive oil. Then it went into a hot oven. Half-way through we took it out and slathered it with the pineapple-habanero jam I made last weekend. The jam isn’t quite thick like jam but it’s thicker than a glaze. The combination of heat and the fattiness of the salmon really worked together. It mellowed out a bit and was absolutely delicious on the salmon. Good tip, Liz.
Because it did mellow a bit on the salmon, we dipped our spoons into the jar yesterday to see what was going on and I’m happy to report the jam is still quite spicy and sweet. A good combination.
For Valentine’s Day, the better-half baked me a loaf of bread. That trumps flowers any day.
For Valentine’s dinner we made fried oysters as an appetizer. Messy oil everywhere but awesome. We ate them as we made them. I made a chipotle mayo to dip them in (mayo, chipotle flakes or powder and lemon juice).
As we finished off the oysters we realized, yet again, that our dinner plans were too huge for the two of us so we decided not to have bread with dinner–although one piece was taste tested–and we decided to split a tenderloin rather than cooking both. In the end we both felt pretty full at the end of dinner but no one had to unbutton pants or lay on the floor–success!
We tried a healthier version of Steak Diane. We usually use a recipe from the NY Times but I saw the “lighter” recipe in Eating Well. Our go-to cut of beef for steak are NY strips so we swapped in the tenderloin instead so it would be a bit fancier. The better-half took care of the steak and I made garlic mashed potatoes and swiss chard. The leftover mashed potatoes will be making an appearance at breakfast in another hour or so.
As you may have heard it’s hot here in the mid-Atlantic region. What makes it difficult is the ancient building I sit in when I sit on our campus is heated by the bowels of hell. Every time I get here I crank down the heat whether it’s 20 degrees outside or 100 degrees outside. Then the person who “owns” the thermostat gets to her desk and I begin to sweat. She’s older and doesn’t care that it’s hot. Today I wore a t-shirt under my regular shirt and aside for when I’ve been outside to get lunch, I’ve been sitting in my t-shirt. If I could take off my shoes I would. It’s so warm in here that I managed to pry a window open and have slammed a tape dispenser into the space so that a breeze can come in.
Of course when I pried the window open, I realized that all the busted wood from the frame and all the lead based paint a girl could ask for started falling into the room and outside into the courtyard. Oh well…at least there’s fresh air riding in past all that funk.
If I only see you once or twice a year, at best, I think it would be a great idea to not be invited to your wedding, baby shower, whateverthefuck. I think I can say that I’ve reached a point in my life that I should be past weddings and baby showers unless I get hoodwinked into some workplace celebration of either.
Since I’m going to be 41 years old this year, it’s safe to say that my friends and close family members are either married or have spawned by now. I don’t need to celebrate with people in their 20s or early 30s because, seriously, I really doubt I have one thing in common with you other than some distant familial bond or not even that. So, if I have little in common with you, why on this earth would I want to spend an afternoon or an evening standing around making small talk about how beautiful the bride is or how cute the baby will be with your friends? Whom I’ve never met? I can tell you that I care NOT ONE WIT about any of it.
Get back to me in 30 years when I have absolutely nothing to do and would love to shove tiny bits of cake in my mouth because sitting at home watching Dr. Phil has lost it’s spark.
