Two Blind Mice

So, I scheduled an appointment to have LASIK next Friday! YAY! This is exciting and creepy and all, but my predominant emotion by far is an intense fear that something will happen to my glasses in the next few days. Wouldn't that just TOTALLY SUCK? I would have to take to my bed like an invalid, shirking all duties save for eating and drinking. Lord knows I'm not buying a new pair of glasses NOW, universe, so DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT.

Oh, and by-the-by, guess who ELSE is getting Lasik next Friday? BR, that lasah-suspecting fucker! God, he's such a COPYCAT. The ink wasn't even dry on my appointment card before he was scheduling his own consultation. Now we have back-to-back appointments. People, I TOLD you he was competitive. Also, he can now commence driving me MENTAL with his Frets and Ruminations.

Tessie: Dude, what the HELL? It thought you were all SUSPICIOUS [also: chicken] and shit?
BR: I know. I think I'm having a mid-life crisis.
Tessie: You're 34.
BR: Exactly.
Tessie: So, you're only going to live to be 68?
BR: That's the plan.
Tessie: Good to know. I should be able to squeeze in at LEAST one more husband, if not two.


BR: Should I go FIRST or SECOND?
Tessie: Go second so you can watch me.
BR: NO WAY! If I watch you, then I won't want to go!
Tessie: Go first then! Damn!
BR: NO WAY! You just want to save youahself if I go blind!
Tessie: If you go blind, I'll totally still do it.
BR: You would, too.


BR: Who do you think would be a bettah seeing eye dog aftah we'ah blind, Jager or Sasha?
Tessie: Sasha. Jager's too lazy.
BR: WHATEVAH. You can have Sasha. The first cat that crosses youah blind ass, you ah TOAST.
Tessie: Jesus H., we're NOT GOING BLIND.
BR: Poor AD. It's gonna suck having TWO blind parents.

So, yeah. SERENITY NOW and all that. Also, stay away from my glasses for the next 10 days and I am so serious.

P.S.-You guys! It's not too late to give me your wrist circumference! Don't be shy, this blog is totally HIPPA-compliant! I'll compile the results for Friday's Fun Facts. DO IT! You can totally suck it in while you measure, Dr. Oz says so.

Fun Fact Friday: Featuring All New Facts!

*When I met BR, he was interning and only planned to stay in Texas for 8 weeks before returning to Boston. He's been here 6 years.


*BR was born in the Bronx. When he was young, his family moved to the Dorchester area in South Boston (a boy genius from Southie!).


*The guy I dated before BR was from New York and wrestled at Boston College.


*I have sort of, uh, a THING for the East Coast and its unfortunate men. My perfect hypothetical man is the character Will from Good Will Hunting.


*BR "chooses the wrench" a lot in his life ("Why the wrench? Because fuck him, that's why.")


*My mom bought AD a toy dump truck to play with. The first thing she did was cover it with a blankie and put it to "nigh-nights" beside her doll.


*I subscribe to the following cooking magazines: Cooking Light, Everyday Food, Taste of Home, Healthy Cooking, Gourmet, and that Pillsbury magazine you see at checkout stands.


*If we have another girl (Not!Pregnant!), I want to use the name Elena.


*I take Omega-3 fish oil supplements. They don't taste bad (or come up tasting bad) if you freeze them.


*What I SHOULD be taking is calcium. I'm at high risk for bone issues due to my small frame. I once heard that when evaluating your frame size, you should use your wrists as a guide. The circumference of my wrist is 5 1/4 inches.

Shake It Off

Here's the thing about being an emotional cripple, you guys. I'll have some kind of Moment or whatever, maybe during Amercian effing Idol for the love of god, and then I'll just take it in, mull it over, and...that's it. Two seconds later I shake it off, probably with some pithy internal comment like "Well! That was fun! Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy!" and move along. I never mention it to anyone. I didn't even mention the Let It Be thing to BR. And this is totally how I roll in life.

Anyway, one reason I really enjoy my blog is because I'm using it to get better at this. It feels like progress to me even writing this stuff down. Maybe someday I'll *GASP* say some shit like this OUT LOUD (don't hold your breath, friends and family).

Yesterday after I published that post, I felt intensely uncomfortable and...SQUIRRELLY for the rest of the day. It was simplisitic! It came out wrong! I can't ever say stuff the way I want to! I wanted to delete it. I wanted to edit it to put in a joke at the end. GAH! Do I have raging issues, or WHAT?

Anyway, thanks for playing along, and Letting It Be (weird and awk) and all that.

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Hellbeast Update!

*They are doing an egg hunt today at AD's daycare, and although that sounds cute and awesome and festive and all, I can't help but wonder how the hell you DO that with a group of toddlers. I mean, don't they all just run around screaming "MINE! MIIIIINE!" and losing their tiny little minds? Do you have to send them out one at a time, and have them tag each other in and out, or WHAT?

*Getting AD changed and dressed these days is making me want to DIE. I have to PIN HER DOWN to change her diaper, and I can barely do it. She screams and twists around and tries to run off. It reminds me of the passage in Operating Instructions where Anne Lamott says of her son, "he acts like I'm trying to BRAND him".

*AD loves wearing dresses and for some reason this shocks me. She is just SO BUCKY about stuff lately, that I guess I assumed she would not be down with anything advocated by The Man. The reason I started dressing her in them to begin with was because they minimize the Epic Dressing Battle, since all I have to do is get ONE thing over her head, done and DONE. But her daycare teachers have actually reported an improvement in MOOD when she wears them. Uh, okay. Weird and fussy, but okay (the Motto of The Toddler!)

Boring Food Post: Cheery Spring Edition!

One of my favorite television food personalities of all time is Sara Moulton. She's pleasant and cheerful without being PERKY (Rachael fucking Ray), knowledgeable without being SMUG (Bobby Flay, Mario Batali), and demonstrates without being CONDESCENDING like some kind of Psychotic Kindergarten Teacher (Sandra Lee, Paula Deen).

Anyway, several years ago I watched one of her shows on starting a tradition in her family of serving pasta primavera on the first day of spring. Despite the fact that this happened in college and therefore I was likely drunk or hungover, I managed to retain those particular brain cells, and I've been doing it ever since. The pasta primavera thing, that is. FOCUS! (Gah, there is NO HOPE for this paragraph! Go towards the light!)

Horrifying syntax aside, I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this, which is RECIPE CITY. God, I hope you people like FOOD, because you don't seem to be getting much else out of me lately.

Spring Pasta Primavera

1/2 lb. uncooked pasta (I like spaghetti or angel hair with this)
2 cups diagonally cut thin asparagus (I use one pkg of frozen)
1/2 cup peas
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1 small yellow bell pepper, julienned (GAH! DISGUST! I omit this, OBV)
1 small red onion, thinly sliced (or 1/2 large onion)
2 garlic cloves, minced (I use 3)
1 cup halved cherry or grape tomatoes
2/3 cup chicken broth
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper (could omit for kids, but really adds to the taste)
1/4 - 1/2 cup grated fresh parmesan cheese
1/4 cup thinly sliced fresh basil

Cook pasta, adding asparagus and peas during last minute or two of cooking. Drain and place in large bowl. Heat oil in skillet over medium-high heat. Add bell pepper, onion, and garlic; saute 5 min. Add tomatoes; saute 1 min. Stir in broth, cream, salt, and red pepper; cook 2 minutes or until heated through. Add tomato mixture to pasta mixture; toss to coat. Sprinkle with cheese and basil.

ATTENTION FUSSYPANTSES: I know TOMORROW is the first day of spring, not TODAY, I just thought it through for once and thought you might want to PREPARE and shit.

Edited to add Bonus Boring Food Anecdote: Yesterday I got a Google hit for "baggie guilt", which may be the most AWESOME search phrase EVER.

Back To A Nice Relaxing Day at Work

Well, I was off yesterday for a random day of vacation, and I worked myself TO THE BONE people! My main goal for the day was to get a couple of pans of lasagna into the freezer, which I did, and can I tell you guys just how long my lasagna recipe takes to prepare from start to finish? THREE FUCKING HOURS, that's how long! I nearly WEPT when I finally took it out of the oven. Jesus. The things I do for these so-called Loved Ones.

BR: Why is theah SOWAH CREAM in this? [sour cream is on the list of Foods BR Will Totally Eat, As Long As He Doesn't Know About It Beforehand]

Tessie: That's not sour cream, that's CREAM SAUCE.

BR: Whatevah!

Tessie: Don't "whatevah" me! Sour cream is barely in the same CATEGORY as cream sauce! Also, why would I put sour cream in LASAGNA?

BR: *Look Of Suspicion*

Tessie: THREE HOURS!

Meanwhile, AD was shoveling it in handfuls at a time. INCLUDING Cream Sauce of Suspicion. I ask you, who is the toddler here?

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Speaking of toddlers, is there anything cuter than toddler gymnastics? Answer: only the leotards.

You: Isn't it a little EARLY to start living vicariously through your child, Tessie?

Me: You're one of those "my child plays quietly alone for hours" people, aren't you?

Fun Fact Friday!

Fun Facts!

• I have several fancy wine-openers, but my favorite one, and the one that works the best, is a $1 pocket wine key (the kind that folds up to look sort of like a pocket knife). I've had it since I waited tables in college. It was 1 (ONE) U.S. DOLLAR, PEOPLE. In 1998.
  
  
• The top three search phrases for this blog are "math quizzles", "counting back change", and variations of "2000 Flushes Blue sucks".
  
  
• Both my maiden name and my married name have Superfluous Capital Letters and can be written with or without a space. This drives me INSANE.
  
  
• BR wanted to name AD "Joaquin" if she was a boy. True story.
  
  
• I keep ordering Wendy's Kids Meals trying to score the Caddoo travel game that kept AD busy DURING AN ENTIRE CHURCH SERVICE while my mom was here. Why don't I just ASK for that toy when I order, you say? Oh, Skimmers. I love ya.
  
  
• BR was a Field Medic when he was in the Army (I TOLD you Greg's a male nurse). He says their philosophy was "pain is the patient's problem". This is SO HIM.
  
  
• BR is agnostic. It doesn't bother me at all.
  
  
• One of us wants AD to go to public school and one of us wants AD to go to Catholic school.
  
  
• I'm drinking my coffee out of a mug that I won for giving the Best Persuasive Speech in one of my grad school classes. The title of the speech was "Why I Will Die In a Fiery Wreck if You Don't Buy Me a New Car".
  
  
• Friday is my busiest work day of the week, thanks to a standing Monday morning meeting led by my boss. I can almost never take Fridays off, and THIS SUCKS.

Speaking of Minnesota (WHAT?)

Some very persistent Googler has been on a quest for Tator Tot Hotdish for WEEKS now, and it's making me feel bad, since one of my life mottos is No Hotdish Seeker Left Behind. Anyway, here's where I originally posted the recipe I use. Also, I'm positively BRIMMING with hotdish recipes, so email me if you ever find yourself in some kind of Hotdish Crisis. If you have Cream of Mushroom in the pantry, I'll fill in the gaps.

Transcription of online convo with my (awesome) sister this morning:

Mandy: I go to pick up my new car tonight-I'm pumped! It's going to be great to have cruise control and air conditioning!
Tessie: NICE. What are you doing with the Escort, demolition derby?
Mandy: Pfft. No! I'm getting $500 for that beast! She's a beaut Clark! [OMFG, I love my sister]
Tessie: You totally hosed them on that one, eh? They only gave me $250 for the Dynasty when it finally died. My goal is to drive cars until their value is less than or equal to zero.
Mandy:He originally offered $250 but I was not having it. I mean, I realize practically the whole bumper is missing--but the interior is still in perfect condition (minus the chicken nuggets and french fries fossilized between the seats).

I miss Minnesota, The End.