Showing posts with label dangerous snacking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dangerous snacking. Show all posts

Monday, July 14, 2008

Did you have a good time? It depends...

My darling has but one weekend a year to forget that he is an uptight corporate slug. He trades in his starched button down shirts and neatly pressed khakis for old gnarly tee shirts, over sized cargo shorts, and turns into a drunken slob hippie for 3 straight days and nights. He rolls around a public park, drinks gallons of draft beer and smokes god knows what from various lit objects that get passed around by god knows who.

He lives for this shit, but it's not my scene.

It's one weekend a year, so I am able to ignore his disgusting smell and beastly behavior and know that the lovely, reliable, non-hippie type guy I married will come home to me. Meanwhile, Comfest has become my excuse to drive to Columbus and spend time with my friends - husband free. I drop him off at the park and head off to the suburbs.

The short version of my trip to Columbus can be described in two words - Laughing Jag. I don't think that I have laughed so much in the last 4 years as I did in the 2 days I spent hanging out with my friends. The long version is described in bullet points below.



Friday:


  • Met my friends Becky, Amy and Amy's daughter LBL for 2 hour lunch at a favorite old haunt, a Turkish restaurant in a local mall. If there is a better way to start off your Friday afternoon than with a little babaganoush, a lamb kebab and a lot of gabbing with old friends, I have yet to hear about it.

  • After lunch we did a little browsing around the shops, but mostly we just walked around and made fun of people.

  • Later that evening Frenchie and Nature Boy hosted a little soiree. I brought all the fixin's for guacamole and chopped up everything and made it on the spot, while standing in the middle of Frenchie's kitchen. Awesome. I love to make food while hanging around with my friends.

Saturday:

  • I drop kicked a hung over MDH out of bed, reminding him that he had made plans for us to have brunch at a greasy spoon with our friend S.

  • After brunch I rolled MDH out of the car in front of Comfest and drove straight to Amy's and hung out with her until it was time for us to meet Dan and Becky at the movies. We saw The Love Guru and were the only people in the theater. The movie wasn't that great, but we laughed our asses off anyway.

  • Dan, Becky and I headed back over to Amy's and spent the evening eating pizza and chicken wings and watching back to back episodes of Flight of the Conchords. Like I said, laughing jag.

Sunday (in the wee small hours of the morning):

  • MDH came crashing into our hotel room at around 2:30am, rudely awakening me from a blissful (sober) slumber.

  • He continued to talk to me at full drunken hippie volume about his wondrous day at Comfest, as if I had not moments before been soundly asleep.

  • As I became more aware of my surroundings and how much I hate hippies, I noticed that the previously pristine and perfect white hotel bed linens had become soiled and brown at the foot of his side of the bed.

  • Now fully alert, I could see that the source of the filth was MDH's giant sandled feet and that he had lain in our bed after apparently wallowing through a muddy cow pasture.

  • I screamed at him to go and wash his feet.

  • After some grumbling and cursing he washed his feet and I allowed him to come back to bed.

  • He fell immediately asleep while I lay fully awake, wild eyed and fuming.

  • I got up to go to the bathroom and when I returned a few moments later found him sleeping spread eagled, hogging up the entire king-sized bed and all the pillows. Even the decorative ones.

  • I shoved him all around until I was able to squeeze in back in, but that's about the time the drunken snoring began. Oh joy.

  • At around 3:15am I packed up my shit, and drove home.
Two clarifications (so you won't think I'm an economy sized asshole):


1. We were planning for me to leave on Sunday without him anyway, just not quite so early. He made other arrangements to get home because he likes to stay for the entire Comfest event. I, on the other hand, could give a shit and was hoping to get home early enough to do some laundry before work on Monday morning.



2. I woke him up and kissed him goodbye before I left.



One realization (about making rash decisions while tired and angry):
1. My decision to begin a 6 hour drive through mostly rural Ohio all by myself at 3:30am was probably not so smart. I realized this about 2 hours into my trip home when it was pitch black, there were no signs of civilization, no other vehicles on the road, and the urge to pee suddenly became excruciating. That crazy astronaut lady who wore the diaper on her attempted murder spree through Florida started to seem not so crazy as I pulled into a dark and empty roadside rest.



One more realization:


1. I probably shouldn't have gulped down a giant cup of gas station coffee on my way out of town.

Thursday, November 1, 2007

In Response To Your Google Search Query #1

Just in case you thought I was done blogging for the day:

Dear Person Who Found My Blog Via The Search Query "how to make big fluffy croissants",

Quel Damage! But mercy buckets for visiting! I presume to take the meaning of your query in a non-sexual way and hope you weren't too disappointed to find this blog has nothing to do with baked goods or pastries and everything to do with my life's boring and often disgusting minutiae. I do have some good news for you, however!

No, I didn't just save a bundle on car insurance, but I actually DO know the secrets of how to make big fluffy croissants.

Here you go:
Don't over knead the dough and make sure that both the butter AND the dough are about the same temperature before you begin rolling. 65°F (23°C) is ideal. Now, if that doesn't work for you, you can try a little trick I learned several years ago in Paris that I like to call "go to the bakery and let a professional worry about such things darling because life is short".

Bon appétit et Bonne Chance!

Toodles!
The Lady

Monday, October 15, 2007

Potato Chip Pancreas

A post I saw this morning at Adventures in Self-Loathing reminded me of this story that MDH sent to me awhile back. A Colorado man lost 50% of his lung capacity from inhaling the chemical fumes coming off of microwave popcorn. Granted, this man was consuming 72 bags of the stuff each month, but still.

Although I'm sorry the man had to suffer breathlessness during choir practice I can't help but smirk just a little at the term "Popcorn Lung". Is that wrong? I already knew how harmful fatty, salty snacks can be, but I was thinking more of heart disease and high cholesterol. Popcorn Lung kind of hit me with a no-seem-um. It's the words together, the snack and the disfunctioning organ. So here's my own list of snacks and body parts mixed together to create new scary diseases. Feel free to send me yours too.

  • Dorito Rectum

  • Ring-Ding Liver

  • Corn Chip Kidney

  • Ruffles - by itself could be a disease of the skin, like shingles. Seriously, call in sick from work tomorrow with a bad case of Ruffles.

  • Bugle Neck

  • Pretzel Colon - hot mustard pretzel colon is what they would call a severe case

  • CruditĂ© Ear

  • Triscuit Finger