Recipes for the Lazy Cook – #001 – Four Ingredient Pasta
12 Apr 2011 Leave a Comment
in Food, House and Home, Peculiarly Awesome, Recipes Tags: cheese, cooking, garlic, laziness, pasta, recipe
1.) Pasta
2.) Shredded Parmesan Cheese
3.) Garlic Powder
4.) Pepper
Boil Pasta. Drain. Top with Parmesan cheese, garlic powder, pepper. Microwave for 30 seconds.
Lonely Soles Single Socks Mixer – Finding Solemates
31 Jan 2011 Leave a Comment
in House and Home, Love and Marriage Tags: beauty, connection, loneliness, loss, love, lovers, separation, single, socks, solemate, soulmate
Yesterday I held my Annual Lonely Soles Single Socks Mixer, which may or may not be annual – it depends on what the demand is like in my socks community. If I hear of too many disgruntled and lonesome socks wandering aimlessly, wasting their lives away, unused, unappreciated, and moping about sorrowfully with low self esteem, I may decide that it’s time to plan the social event a little further ahead than usual.
The Story of the Single Socks:
Some were young and fresh in love when they came to me. Matched to each other and only each other, they went everywhere together. They were perfect for each other. They were inseperable. They swore they would be together for life. They were as happy as peas in a pod.
Most came to me as normal folks. Average looking, one could be exchanged for another, and no one would notice. They were with their partners for functional reasons. It worked. Nothing was wrong. Everything was fine.
But over time, each separated from their other.
Some ripped apart by careless superiors over space and time, stuffed in couch crevices, kicked under the bed, sent to separate camps during difficult times of segregation and ethnic cleansing, left behind by the careless superiors in dark and dingy apartment complex laundry rooms, only to be crucified on the communal cork board of shame with other lost and unwanted socks.
Some lovers ran away. Some of the most beautiful ones. The only ones. The most prized – they left, never to be seen again. Perhaps they couldn’t take the pressure, or just wanted to be average, or they just didn’t get along with their mate, and needed to leave it all behind. Perhaps the relationship was all just for looks, while underneath, trouble had been brewing for a while.
Sadly, I remember how some were widowed – one drowned in the lake when a boat capsized. They were the only two of a kind, mated for life, and now only One is left, waiting, looking out of the box, forever waiting for the other to return. Sometimes an Other uses the One for a day or two, but soon enough, the One is tossed aside, and the Other goes back to its long-term partner. The One is black and blue, and it waits. It waits.
Most were together at first, and then just drifted apart over time.
Some had been around the block more than others, and it showed. The tiredness, the wear: they didn’t have the energy for nonsense any longer.
For most, the Lonely Soles Single Socks Mixer was a chance to reconnect with someone that might’ve always been around, who they knew in the back of their minds they’d probably have a good chance of connecting with, someday. The kind who had often walked past each other, but had never given the other a single thought as anything more than an acquaintance.
Most at the Lonely Soles Single Socks Mixer were average. Some were especially good looking. All were single. And happily, some matches were made.
Others are still single.
And others are still waiting for their solemate to return.
Lonely Soles Single Socks Mixer 2011
Laundry! Detergent! Gone! Oh No!
30 Jan 2011 Leave a Comment
in House and Home, Personal Tags: a pocket for corduroy, corduroy, detergent, don freeman, found, free, home, laundry, Lost, missing, tide
This is the story of my missing laundry detergent.
Yesterday, while taking up two loads of freshly dried laundry back to my apartment, I left my detergent downstairs in the laundry room, as I intended to come right back with another two loads to wash.
I got distracted. I never came back to do loads 3 and 4.
Poor laundry detergent got left behind, overnight, all by itself. Like Corduroy in “A Pocket for Corduroy” by Don Freeman, I am sure it had many exciting adventures overnight, looking for it’s owner, because when I went back to look for it today, it was gone! Nowhere to be found in the laundry room.
I realized this when it crossed my mind that it would be good to finish off loads 3 and 4 today. Detergent not in linen closet. Oh no. I left it downstairs – it’s probably still there. I mean, who steals laundry detergent, right?
So I brought down loads 3 and 4, and to my dismay, there was no Tide bottle in sight.
I went upstairs and wrote a note, explaining said dismay at someone’s thoughtless and inconsiderate kleptomaniacal actions. It included emotional and accusatory language such as: “Really? That desperate for detergent? Get a life.”
Then went back downstairs with a large, unwieldy Costco sized jug of backup detergent that the old owners of the apartment left for us when they moved out.
So mad that I forgot to add said backup detergent to the first load before starting it. Then madly scrambled to add detergent, eventually adding too little because the washer was already halfway through spraying the soap drawer, which turned out to be too much, because I realized very soon after that it was non-HE detergent. Stood there and watched, fuming, as the washer inevitably oversudsed.
Posted my note.
Then thought I’d look around one last time.
Washer area: nope.
Dryer area: nope.
Clothes folding area: nope.
Creepy lounge area with old national geographics and vinyl benches: nope.
Washroom: nope.
Room with big laundry sink: nope.
…wait…
Room with big laundry sink has cupboards.
***BINGO!!!***
Oh hello there Tide Free, I’ve missed you. I’m sorry for having abandoned you in the dark and creepy laundry room overnight. Did you have a grand adventure? I hope so. How did you end up in this cupboard? Some kind person must’ve dropped you off here.
So the last laugh’s on me. To think, I was absolutely LIVID at the person who took my detergent, livid enough to write one of those hilariously angry notes that are dead serious to the author, but hilarious to anyone else reading it in a reasonable state of mind.
Thank you, kind person. I hope you have a very good weekend, indeed.
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