(no subject)

...just had a nightmare about driving. great. I love it when even my subconscious manages to fuck with me on a bad day.

Damn it I _can_ drive, never mind that something fucktarded always happens when I do it in my dreams. I just need to work on the finer points. And all I did in my dream was make a wrong turn into a cornfield, damn it. Oh, and do that thing that I always somehow manage to do which is be driving and still in the backseat.

Course, I got the ticket not for that, but for driving on my permit without a licensed driver in the car with me... except Mom (and Mom in her prime, not sick Mom) was in the car with me. And she was a damn good driver, lemme tell ya. but this cop was lecturing me on the bit of the driver manual about licensed drivers, even though she was sitting right there and he'd seen her license.

Fuck him right in the ear. And fuck my brain for undermining my ability to do something on the one day where I really really really really don't need it.

Slight change of plan.

So I was supposed to run to NYC tonight.

One small problem with that plan is that my sister called and I've been put in charge of sweet potatoes and corn pudding. I may also be making cornbread as well (!!!). I could make all of that at the 'rents' house but there's the small issue of actually having the supplies (the kitchen has been in a state of barely controlled chaos since Mom went into the hospital the last time), and if I go tonight there's a very good chance I won't make it to the store before they close. Not to mention everything's more expensive in NY.

New plan: stay home and cook like fuckall. This should actually be fun - I haven't really been inspired to make shit like candied sweet potatoes since the house went vegetarian. (I say this because the only time I get inspired to cook stuff is when there are a couple of courses in the offing and I haven't figured out an acceptable proteinlike substance to chicken yet.) To do this I have to run to Assnpoop for a cubic buttload of sweet potatoes, creamed corn and Rubbermaid big enough to transport it all in without sloshing it everywhere. Also must call Valley Transporter before six so I can make the 6:30am train out of Assfield in the morning. Valley Transporter doesn't run on Thanksgiving. *facesmack* N'hamp taxi's cheaper to assfield anyway. Good to know! Get to the house by 11am, catch the last hour of the Macy's Parade on TV and help with setup.

I will also be departing NY on the 8pm train, so this is me batting my eyelashes cutely, putting on my best girlie pout and whoring really hard for a lift from the train station home Saturday night, since the train will be arriving way after the last bus to Northampton departs. Compensation is your choice of gas money, scintillating conversation, inclusion in my personal pantheon to be worshipped evermore, sexual favors, and/or an ipod's worth of music.


in other news, had a brilliant idea on my way home about what to do with the leotard with the dorky zipper. I've decided to keep it and experiment with taking the zipper out and replacing it with grommets, thereby turning it into a lace up leotard. If that succeeds I'll have to see about modding the sleeves with laces as well. I think this will turn out quite tastily. Not like I've got the time for yet another project, but hey, it's less of a pain than returning it.

Right. Off to run around like a crazy person now.

(no subject)

Some observations made on my short impromptu shopping trip:

Dear gods. I'd forgotten how tasty Boston Market chicken actually is. I was something of a starving crazed wolverine upon returning home, which is regrettable - it would probably have been even tastier hot.

Stop and shop was a zooooooooooooooooooo. Guess everyone's cooking tonight.

Once I'd learned to appreciate some of the finer points of country music I'd pretty much thought that all genres had some redeemable quality and purpose upon this earth. I had forgotten completely about the supreme evil that is light/smooth jazz, aka the worst travesty visited upon the alto and tenor saxophones since the wailing aural rapes of the 1980s (Wham!'s "Careless Whispers" anyone?). That stuff is an absolute disgrace, and does not deserve the moniker of "jazz." I hereby call it from now on "smooth jackazz."

I've got about ten pounds worth of sweet potatoes to wash, boil, slice and candy tonight, not to mention the eight cans of creamed corn that I have to magically turn to gold corn pudding.

I love having conversations with people via text message. I've had my phone just long enough to gain a few folks that I can message back and forth with when I'm bored. :)

So far so good

Started cooking an hour after the kitchen freed up, around 9.

well no. I actually stated around 9:30, since I needed to wash the dishes. 2 hours and change later, the sweet potatoes are cooling in the bowl after being boiled for nearly an hour, and all of the corn pudding is in the oven now. I didn't set anything on fire or have any major accidents yet, though I did manage to burn the tip of my thumb. Stupid delayed nerve signals. I didn't realize my thumb was actually in the boiling water when I was poking the potatoes with a skewer to check their done-ness. Ow.

Considering how picky I was/am concerning the texture of my food it's a bloody miracle I actually like corn pudding as much as I do, considering what it very closely resembles in both look and consistency.

taking a little break now, then tackling the sweet potatoes.