what the crap?

    I seriously cannot believe it's Friday.  I guess having little to no responsibility will do that to you.  Wow.  I accomplished nothing this week, well except for my least favorite chore... Topic of the day: What's you least favorite chore.  Mine would have to be the dishes.  Sometimes sitting in that cesspool you call a sink for more than a week, each dish is covered in rancid food or food that has been bloated by water, floating there rotting.  That’s only the beginning; all the silverware and cups (and occasionally plates) have bacteria on them from people’s saliva (yes I live with people who lick plates).  The bacteria, the mold, the sludge that is dirty dishes.  So the amazing part about my only accomplishment this week is that I did the dishes like 3 times.

    Today Matt and I went to the grocery store.  I’m flat broke so he was paying for everything.  This means I had to ask for every single item I wanted because otherwise the thought of what I would like to eat would never enter his mind.  The meal he is famous for eating is: circle of chicken and pile of rice.  It’s thusly named for being plain white rice with a chicken breast cooked without any seasoning what so ever.  The quintessence of blandness and tastelessness.  I would cry if I had to eat that, it would strip most of the joy from my life.  Anyways, shopping makes him grumpy because I think of creating meals and making things we can all eat and be happy with and he wants to buy staples, bread, meat, cheese and only spend $30.  He and his friend Brian are famous for saying "food is fuel, not fun".  How can I live with such a food neanderthal?  Simple, I control the food coming in, allowing his staples to remain and not asking for a monetary contribution every month, just allowing what I spend in food to cover what I own him in phone, internet and insurance.  He will eat and like whatever I make, and only complains about food when one of his staples is missing and is unable to prepare something for himself.  If I slack off in cooking or buying food he will do cute things like buy 10 cans of whatever is on sale at Safeway and eat it exclusively, be it tuna, ew, or chili con carne that is 600 calories and 20 grams of fat per can thus making it entirely inedible to me.  I’m glad that this is our problem and not that he beats me in public while dealing meth.  For that I am grateful.

    Tiffany and I had a grand experiment this evening.  Tiffany really wanted to make spiced rum that I had made at my birthday party last year.  I blocked most of that event from my mind at this point; those of you who know, know and we will keep it at that.  So I honestly can’t remember what I had made, whatever it is I’m sure I made it up seeing as I hate following directions of any kind and usually think my way is better.  I shrugged and said “I’m pretty sure it was a bottle of rum with 3 bags of the martinelli’s mulling spices.”  And what did we get?  Only half a bottle of very spicy, very concentrated rum.  What I failed to remember that it was half a gallon of apple juice and 6 bags of mulling spices brought to a boil and then simmered for 20 min.  Then add a half a bottle of rum right near the end just to warm it up.  That my friends, was an expensive experiment in alcohol.  An ex-alc-speriment if you will.