Soup. Real Soup

I made soup today. Real soup, not from a can. I went to a grocery store, bought ingredients, prepped, boiled, sauteed, mixed, stirred, and created my great grandmother's Chicken Fricot (Chicken & Dumpling soup). And my roomie helped (a lot). It was a collaborative effort and it turned out great!
Some might be thinking "so what, I cook for (fill in the blank) hours for (fill in the number) of people everday", that's great, congratulations to you for being skilled in the kitchen, but I would rather wear toilet paper to a night-club just so I can afford to buy already made food rather than actually have to cook.

I can 100% appreciate the amazing art that is the culinary world (I was raised by a chef, hi Mom) and I think it rocks, which is why I want to eat as much food made by people who are good at it as possible. For me, the thought of 3+ hours consisting of: going to a grocery store, putting crap away, washing/prepping/cutting/mixing, then actually cooking it (in the right order, for the right amount of time), then eating it (which for me takes all of 2 minutes for an entire feast because I'm a pig with no self control)...and then cleaning EVERYTHING up. No thank you, the thought of it makes me cringe, literally, cringe.

But...today was actually fun. Maybe because I had help from my super cool roommate, or maybe because I was keeping a family tradition alive through soup, but it was great. Don't get excited though, this will not become a habit. I will probably order Thai for dinner tomorrow.

Anyway, making soup with my roomie was the highlight of my day.
And the fact that I'm watching Rugrats. The episode is called "Pickles vs. Pickles". Ah, the good old days.

F.U. Computer

In my 3rd year of college I took a Law class. Loved it. Turned into law geek for a semester (even though I had no clue about anything). So one of our final assignments was to write a legal brief. My assignment was for Bates vs. State Bar of Arizona. Now, if anyone has written one of these babies they know they involve an insane amount of research and every scrap of research needs to be documented in footnotes, etc. So I did all the research, killed several trees, and probably guaranteed my need for glasses in 5 years.

I start typing, spend about 6 hours with Radiohead's O.K. Computer on loop blasting through my mini speakers. All of a sudden. . Blank. 20 pages, 40 footnotes, formatting: gone. Ah! Ahhhh!!! * smashing the mouse against my desk *. OK. I try undo...nope. Ummm...did I save it under another name? no, I was on a typing spree, forgot to back it up. Call Dad the computer whiz at 11 pm. We go through a 1/2 hour trouble shooting frenzy before he says "Sorry, it's gone". I cry. I cry as if my pet just died. Then I decided to chill the heck out because I really couldn't waste any time (did I mention it was due the next day?...thanks Dad, for giving me the procrastination gene...and thanks Mom for not giving me boobs...that has nothing to do with this post, but yes I'm bitter).

I put on some shoes and decided to get out of the house and go to someone else's house who could distract my brain from the horror that just happened. I get in my car and call about 6 people...no one answers...those are really bad odds. So then of course I cry because not only did I just lose 6 hours of work to the black hole of my hard drive, but I am also not as popular as I thought I was. So, I go back home. Sit back down, type a paragraph save "Version 1", type a sentence, save "Version 2"....etc, until I think I was at about "Version 145". It ended up being 27 pages, I was up until 6am. I got an A. My friends eventually called. Happy Ending.

Just thought I'd share how I annoy myself on a daily basis: because of that fiasco I hit ctrl+s a million times a day. A million. It is so annoying when using the Internet, opens up all sort of windows. I did it so many times today I got annoyed and had to walk away. Computer and I will make up later.
ctrl+s. ctrl+s. ctrl+sctrl+sctrl+sctrl+sctrl+s.

An upheaving Friday a.m.

I woke up this morning to my cat heaving on the carpet. She puked twice. Maybe she's sick, or maybe it's because she's a fat cow who eats everything...who knows. I covered it with a paper towel and left it as a "good morning roomie, I love you but cannot handle vomit before 10 am...actually, ever...I can never handle vomit..and she's more your cat than mine" gift. Or maybe Ilene will clean it up, in which case it's a "thanks for taking my parking spot so that I had to park down the street instead of in the driveway of the house I pay rent at" gift.