Full disclosure: I started this post way earlier and it sat, waiting to be finished all day. I finished it, don't worry.
The hubs got mad last weekend when I asked if the Kevin Bacon military movie he was watching was A Few Good Men 2.
Why do I start whispering when someone that I'm on the phone with whispers?
Did you know the new thing is Corgi cross-breeds? I want a Corgi/Golden Retriever or a Corgi/Dachshund. No, I don't really want another dog. I like short dogs, I don't know why. Growing up, I had a dachshund, Otto, and I've had two Basset Hounds. My Basset is good for finding any type of food in the house.
I haven't had sushi in two weeks. This is a travesty.
Another one of my dork friends gave up Words With Friends. He sent a WWF break-up message and everything. The whole "it's not you, it's me" line. He may be going into WWF Rehab. Dr. Drew may have that as a new reality show, you never know.
Is it racist that I don't like brown rice that much?
A landscaper came over to give me an estimate to re-do my flowerbeds. I don't know the names of plants and my descriptions of what I wanted were not very helpful. When she said names of plants I was clueless.
I just made a drink just because. Pour yourself something. Or get out a shaker and shake yourself something. "If we're gonna shoot, we gotta shake." Name that movie.
I've been angry and upset today. Do you know what I do when I'm upset? I cook. Is that weird? Probably.
Risotto is one of my favorite things to make when upset. It involves a ton of stirring. I like to pretend I'm beating someone upside the head when I'm stirring. Feel free to use that in your own cooking. If you don't have anyone you can imagine beating upside the head, email me — I'll give you examples.
Risotto is delicious.
Do you know what my new favorite thing is? Vanilla Coke from Sonic.
Sometimes I think my dog is a reincarnated opera singer. But I don't believe in reincarnation.
If I believed in reincarnation I would want to come back as Oprah's dog because you know that bitch is pampered.
Maybe I shouldn't blog after a drink.
I used to bake. Back before I had children I had the patience to bake and I was good at it, despite the fact that baking requires precise measurements and science for things to turn out correctly. Over time, I started cooking more and I no longer bake, save for the occasional pie or cheesecake. I wish I had a cheesecake right now.
Once I made my own cookie cutter out of metal flashing in the shape of a wedding cake for my friend Darla's bridal shower. I baked cookies and decorated them with dragees (little silver balls). That is some Martha Stewart shit.
Know what else I did? The same month that I made the cookies, I killed a scorpion in my old house with approximately one whole can of Raid. I was 7 months pregnant. The fumes I inhaled may or may not have contributed to the fact that the child has ADHD.
I may be a bit tipsy. It took me four tries to get the letters of ADHD right.
By the way, I used the whole can of Raid because I'm terribly afraid of scorpions. I've only seen one in my life. The fear of them stems from watching a show when I was little where a scorpion was in someone's sheets. I checked my sheets every night for years and had reoccurring nightmares about scorpions. I also had reoccurring nightmares that I was awake during surgery and this is why I believe I wasn't fully knocked out during my tonsillectomy when I was six. Totally not kidding.
See – crazy starts early.
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