What's Cookin'

Nothing much to say to round out the weekend activities here. I was tired this weekend. Slept til noon on Sunday, and had to make an effort to get myself out of bed at that. Sluggish all day, but made some food. Whipped up a pot of chili that was an experiment of sorts. We are low on groceries and not stocking up prior to our trip next week (hooray!). I added pumpkin to the chili per The Healthy Hoff. It's tasty.

I also roasted beets. Lookout, blood-red poop!

And I roasted some red-skinned potatoes with garlic cloves. They are okay. I was just using up stuff in the fridge.

I've got a big pimple on the tip of my nose. Kenny said it's starting to make requests. Tonight it requested Oreos and milk, so I guess he's right.

More later...I know, I know, you can hardly wait.

Party Animals

Kenny: "How is it that we can have a sink full of dishes, and we haven't eaten one meal at home all week?"

Good question. I have no idea. But we do, and we didn't. The only thing I've "cooked" all week was my morning smoothies, which accounts for the dirty Vitamix sitting in the sink, that I hadn't rinsed out yet. Other than that, nothing was concocted here. Yet? A sink full of dirty dishes sits in the kitchen, awaiting to be addressed.

Kenny thinks the cats must host parties when we're not home. I'm not so sure he's wrong.

Or is it that Taco Bell smells like me?

Sitting in my recliner this morning, reaching over for my cuppa coffee sitting on the little table, I smelled Taco Bell. Furrowed brow, wrinkled nose, wondering where in the world the smell of Taco Bell meat was coming from. And then I realized: ME. My armpits, to be precise. Smelled like Taco Bell meat.

AND I HAVEN'T HAD TACO BELL MEAT LATELY.

When I went to bed I didn't smell like Taco Bell meat. I don't know what happened during that REM sleep, but somewhere along the way I worked up enough of a sweat to smell like a fast food chain upon waking.

Now go. Get a taco. Think of me (my armpit) when you're eating.

You're welcome.

Just a Bunch of Sentences

It's really wrong that I had bacon for dinner. While watching The Biggest Loser.

Ahem.

Proud? No. Full? Yes.

But the bacon wasn't really very good, it was too maple-y tasting. Twinkle Toes enjoyed it. And I had it originally planned as part of a BLT, but I don't like my new whole-wheat bread, and the tomato was questionable. So really, a sad dinner - sad for a number of reasons.

Kenny's up at The Islands (Put-in-Bay) for the night. Got a gig. He sounds like a rocker when I put it like that, huh? Kenny The Rocker. Pays $400 for the night, plus they put him up in a room and pay his meals, and his ferry ticket. So really, too good to pass up. I wish I could have gone with him, but I was busy at the Mines. And I had a Nerd Club contest to run today, which went well.

I need to be sitting here writing a speech for Nerd Club, for the Humorous Speech Contest we have next Tuesday, but I fear I only amuse myself (which is really the most important person I need to please).

What the hell is Anna Kornikova doing as a trainer on Biggest Loser?? Where'd the angular-faced Gillian person go?? What is HAPPENING in this world?? I can't rely on any constants! Sheesh.!

Okay, whew, calming down, I can understand using Anna, I guess. She's getting banged by Enrique Iglesias, lucky girl. She's got a good reason to be skinny and nimble.

I think I'm going to use my time in the house to get to bed early for a change. I planned that last night, too, and it was midnight before I was sleeping, with the additional pleasure of waking up intermittently throughout the evening. I've got Things on my mind, consisting of a lot of work and how I'm going to get it all done. Tonight I take Tylenol PM to avoid such interruptions.

There, I'm all sorts of excitement. Who wouldn't wanna be me.

Where My Nose Has Been

Buried, that's where. Buried in some books. My latest fascination has been The Hunger Games trilogy. I downloaded the first one as a test for my new Nook reader that I received from My Lovah as an early birthday gift.

I wasn't sold on the thought of an e-reader, but decided on my last cruise that it was time. I hauled probably 12 lbs. worth of books to the Caribbean, and that's just too much haulin'. So I got one early, in time for our next cruise, to see how I'm going to like it. I got the color version, so that I can test out magazines & whatnot, too.

Verdict? I LOVE LOVE LOVE this thing! I worried that I was going to miss the whole "reading a book, holding a book, looking at the cover, reading all the details, sniffing the pages" experience. I did not. That was far overshadowed by the ease of holding a light-as-a-feather reader with one hand, being able to increase the font-size to accommodate my old-ass eyes, and having the backlight to further assist my late-night reading pleasures.

So I started with The Hunger Games, and was completely hooked on yet another YA reading selection. What of it, Reader? It's no secret I am known to enjoy the YA genre, including (but not limited to) The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants & Twilight series. I only indulged in the 1st of the Harry Potters, I found it enjoyable enough, but I guess I am more prone to teenage-angsty-lust - that has to comprise an element for me.

With The Hunger Games, we have another love triangle, between Katniss (main girl), and the two boys vying for her affections, Peeta & Gale. The tale is quite twisted, really, with a lot of death and the kids pitted against each other, having to kill each other until only 1 person remains. Sounds like a horrifying premise, and yet? I loved it. I just finished the 2nd book in the wee hours of Sunday morn, and am not going to download the 3rd until I get some things done around the house. Once I start these, it's really tough to be productive.

So that's my book review. Love my Nook, and I'm highly entertained by The Hunger Games.

Out of Date

I can no longer deny that I am getting old. er. Older. Shopping over the weekend, I realized that I don't even understand clothes any more. It wasn't even at some speciality store, wherein perhaps it might be understandable if I didn't understand the clothes. This was at T.J. Maxx. And by "this" I mean, THIS:

No, it was not touted as a Halloween ensemble, thinking Slutty Prisoner garb. Nope, it was smack-dab in the middle of the ladies clothing selections, like it was trying to be part of the normal stuff.

Orange-barrel orange. Black lace inserts in the booby-ish area. Scrunch-up belt side things.

I did not understand it. I do not deserve the title that goes with shopping at T.J. Maxx, Maxamista. Or whatever that is.

Eye for an Eye

I spent part of the weekend kal-EYE-doscope-ing myself.

If I only used my powers for good instead of inane, I would be so accomplished.