Fortunate Me

A few years ago, my dad bought me a package of fortune cookies for my birthday. The cookies... well, they should have been thrown away a loooooong time ago, but I really wanted all the fortunes. I can use all the help I can get. So today, in the interest of cleaning my room (in the interest of stalling and not cleaning my room). I finally opened them all. Let me share with you my fortune!

You will soon meet a helpful person -- Probably referring to a bus driver; they help me get where I need to go.

A happy event awaits you -- Umm... That's what he said?

A happy event will take place shortly in your home -- Probably something to do with Twilight.

your help will be needed in an embarrassing situation -- Again, probably something to do with Twilight

you have an optimistic faith and confidence in life -- Wait, is this a fortune? it sounds more like a horoscope. Or maybe its cursing me. "You will suffer from faith and confidence!"

versatility is one of your outstanding traits -- Again, thanks for the compliment, but...

an unexpected phone call will bring good news -- Hopefully President Obama calling me to tell me I can go to the dentist for free.

you will soon solve a difficult problem -- I have a lot of problems. Its hard to guess which one will be solved

you have a winning way. keep it -- Oh-kaay?

you will have gold pieces by the bushel -- Like an old miner!

The time is right to reach your goals -- Is this hinting that I will grow a few inches? I can't reach my goals! I'm too short!

you will receive a compliment today -- Hopefully not the usual compliments I get from old men on the bus.

you will find fame and fortune -- Does this mean I will finally meet Robert Pattinson (it says find, doesn't say I get to keep the fame and fortune).

you will be happy socially and in your work -- I'm waiting...

you will have a chance at good fortune -- This one really sucks. I mean, what if I get so excited that I squeeze my eyes shut and squeal... and then my chance passes me by? Now I can NEVER SLEEP

you are deeply attached to your family and home -- This sounds so ominous.

you will read some information that will help you -- Well technically these are supposed to be helpful

you will be rewarded for your efforts -- I hope so! Because these cookies are extremely soggy. blech.

an invitation is headed your way -- Well its about time someone invited me!

money comes your way: a pleasant surprise -- Well, it is surprising when my paychecks arrive on time/without mistakes. Maybe this time... maybe...

I will say, reading all of those fortunes has really boosted my mood.

Lunch Time

Soup Salad Sandwich Day. That was one of my favorite school lunches. I would get the Tuna fish sandwich or PB and J, chicken noodle soup, and salad with lots of cheese, ranch and those crispy chow mein noodles. Except for the one time the salad lady thought I said "peas" instead of cheese. RUINED MY LIFE. I believe this was one of the rare days where lunch was served with a donut for dessert. The other donut day was creamed tuna over rice day.

Anyhoo, I have come a long way from my elementary palate. Today I enjoyed some creamy tomato soup (which I used to hate) with a grilled cheese sandwich, and a warm mushroom spinach salad (the six year old in me says ewwww).

It takes a lot of effort for me to make just enough food for one person. It takes even more effort for me to make food and not insist that my new roommates also eat it (not that they would refuse...) -- its not courtesy, its a compulsion! I'm trying to be reasonable, but I've lived by myself and worked by myself for the past year, and frankly that doesn't give me enough opportunities to feed people. Its one thing to stock a freezer with cookie dough that will eventually reach someone's stomach. Its something else entirely to serve someone the most delicious cookie they've ever had.

I need someone to feed

Or I need someone to give me a million dollars so that I can open up a restaurant and have many someones to feed

Here's the Problem

The problem with making a box of mac n cheese is that I can easily consume the entire contents in one sitting, even though it's allegedly comprised of 3 serving sizes. I added broccoli, hoping that would make it easier to stop. It didn't.

The problem with browsing set photos is that I think I'm good for one or two, but by the time I realize there is a problem I am already at #389 and I might as well look at all 500. or 600. Look, the exact number is not important...

The problem with having a super cute neice that lives in Alaska

is that I have very few chances to make her just like me, and must leap overzelously at any opportunity...

I guess if these are my only problems, I am doing pretty well for myself.

The Universe

I recently added up all of the ingredients that I put into a batch of scones. Butter makes up approximately one quarter of the ingredients.

A 24 hour fitness occupies the building next to my bakery. And yes, there are people in there all hours of the night. Is this how the universe balances things out? Are they working out to counteract the effects of the amazing pastries that I sell? Or am I baking to counteract their frenzied workouts?

On the bus ride to work, I witnessed a man peeing on the bus. he turned to the window so that he would not be indecently exposed to those sitting across the aisle from him (me), but the sound and visual of pee hitting the bus floor couldn't be, er, washed away. I'm not really sure where this lands in the balance of things. And now that I am writing about it I feel the compulsive need to burn all of my clothes and take a shower. Oh, now I see it... balance.

In Vancouver, a street full of junkies kept Ashley and me from our due purpose of accidentally running into Robert Pattinson. I'll let you know if the universe ever sets that one strait.

I eat standing up

I just made this huge, delicious salad full of cucumber moons, tomato, basil and goat cheese, with arrrrrrgula leaves and red wine vinagrette. It fills up my pasta bowl, which signifies a pretty hefty portion of veggies. And I stand at the kitchen counter, take a few bites and think "Dangit, I'm not going to be able to finish this in one minute, and I don't want to stand here forever..."

This is what working has done to me. I rarely eat a normal meal. I'm so used to making something and then taking a few bites from it when I get the chance, that I don't even know how to sit down anymore. Or maybe I just crave something else...

Does anyone want a delicious salad? There's still quite a bit left.

Streats, Treassing. Potato Chips

Streats (n) - Treats you eat when you are stressed out. I really hit the streats hard today.
eassing (v) (the 'e' is silent) - the act of eating to calm down. Did you eass much today?
Potato Chips (n) - really delicious

Urgent Care to Biscuits! Can you hear me?

Sucks!

 The United States of America's new and improved!:#: Nationalized Health Care plan:

Just make sure to only get sick once a year, because you can probably only afford to go to the doctor once. Don't worry, that entire paycheck that you spent while sitting next to our high class fish tank in the waiting room, it went to a good cause. Guppy Gupster (the guppy in the fish tank... no not that one, the other one) needed a vasectomy. You may have noticed the overpopulation in the tank. And, well, we thought about buying a second tank, or just making some delicious snacks. But that might save money, so we decided to do things the old fashioned way -- removing money dollars from your ass!

It was the most expensive bottle of cough syrup I've ever purchased. That codeine better work damn strait. 

On a more positive note, I finally caught a glimpse into the true art of biscuitry tonight. My boss, Toby, is a wonderful person who trusts me way too much with her recipes. She assumes I know a lot about baking because of my last name. The truth is, I know a lot about how to get sugar into my pie hole in a tasty fashion. 

Anyway. Toby trusts me, so she leaves a recipe that looks like this:

So. Biscuits. Even with a slightly more detailed recipe, I found myself in the dark. Of course I've made biscuits before, but I have a completely different style. The biscuits I made turned out beautifully... but they looked absolutely nothing like Toby's. I walked home in shame -- all these years culminated to this one night where I couldn't make a proper biscuit. I mean, it doesn't get much simpler than that!

Toby says "Oh, just add more liquid." 

OK Toby!

This time, I baked off 4 tester biscuits, and they turned out perfect, by any standard. 

30 minutes later...

WHAT THE #@!!!$#%. Four perfect biscuits followed by fourty shameful, seppuku worthy biscuits. 

I admitted my shame to Ashley, probably the most awesomest person to ever set foot in a kitchen. She immediately replied back with an extremely helpful, well laid out guide to biscuit making that she had come across. Hints like, "Do it this way dumbass!"

I chilled and sifted flour. I poked the biscuits. I didn't twist the biscuit cutter. 

They worked!
I think that chilling the flour is the most important step, because the cooler dough isn't as stretchy, and so when you cut those little circles, they stay one size, and don't shrink up like balls in ice water (run on sentence)!

Not that I've ever seen that in action. 

So I had two delicious biscuits for breakfast (see, I have to test things!) with strawberry jam! You jealous?

Waxing dietic

When I created this blog, the jumble of letters provided for varification purposes spelled "humplavi"

Who is lavi?

Its 1:14 and ummm, I should be sleeping because I am sick. But I haven't taken my sleeping pill yet because I suddenly needed to write something. And watch Harry Potter and the Prizoner of Azkaban. One that isn't quite an adventure, or an obsessive rant on vampires and their sparkly bits. I'm not even sure if I'll keep the address at blogger. I want to try out word press (just in case TDH ever thinks of moving cyber-locales). 

I don't want to be a skinny bitch, but lately I've been thinking about actually trying to lose weight. I haven't seriously considered this since the age of 16, when I started hanging out with punk rock boys and girls who loved the cookies my mom would bake for them. Yeah. They act hardcore until a mom shows up. A small (good) glitch in their rebellious lifestyles.  Anyway, punk rockers gave me a healthy dislike for mainstream anything, and I was quick to throw dieting right in the waste basket. 

I am obsessive. I've had obsessions with weight lifting before, which resulted in some pretty awesome calf muscles (not as good as mom's though). I'm also obsessed with calf muscles in general, so... anyway. I thought maybe I could become obessive about eating right and excersising. Its probably the least fulfilling obsession I've had (Harry Potter is hiding under the sheets, trying to learn the spell, lumos maximus, to make his wand glow to the brightest of its ability... magic, so shameful, yet so satisfying!) I am a baker! By birth and occupation. So, here I go, putting a tray of cupcakes in the oven, all the while thinking "Spinach salad... with curry chickpea... no, the curry dressing is probably not healthy. No I don't care, I want the protein. How many calories did that thought burn?" And then I cry because I feel like somehow, choosing to lose weight means the advertisers won. Also, most of the time I am too tired to eat right or excersise, so I end up obsessing about how I'm doing everything wrong. Healthy... Right. 

For years I've said things like "I am going to eat healthier" or "I am going to excersise a lot!" Hinting that I want to do something good for my body, and if losing weight is a side effect, fine. This is my way of trying to convince myself (or at least convince others) that I am anti dieting just for the sake of looking better.  I desperately wanted, for the ghosts of middle school past, to never support dieting. I desperately want my overall well being to not be tied to my physical appearance. I put on my ideological face (Daniel Radcliffe is so cute in the 3rd harry potter. Angry teenage boy. awwww) and refuse to admit to anyone that I want to be a skinny bitch. I don't. I just want to go shopping and be able to buy jeans without having to hem a foot off the end, and oh yeah, bring in the thighs, because I'm only fat sort of. Not all the way. And its pretty impossible to not have some vested interest in physical appearances.  

I think I just want to pretend that I'm not trying (if I'm trying, that means I've already failed at least one of my lifetime goals -- to never diet -- so if I also fail at dieting... Thats a lot of guilt). But I'm now obsessed with it, and want to obessively write about it (pillow fight in the Gryffindor boys dormitory? really?) whether I fail or not. I don't like support groups, but I like to whine, yes yes I do. But I guess, even if I am now admitting that my goals are of the shallow variety, rather than caring about my over all well being, I can at least be shallow in the healthiest way possible. We'll see what happens. 

There are other obsessive things I wouldn't mind writing about. You think one blog about one book might be enough, but its not.  Hey, look at that, my sleeping pills say "take with food". Oh DARN.

(Professor Lupin says "I'm sorry to hear about your broomstick Harry. Is there no way to repair it?")

Welcome.