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They call me Crocker. Betty Crocker.
Mar. 7th, 2004 05:55 pmI have a kitchtastic day! I cooked and cleaned and cooked and cleaned and cooked and cleaned some more.
If I didn't know I was me I would have wondered who I was and what I had done with myself.
But it was just swell. And I heard Like a Pill by Pink which is a fabulous song to sing along to as you do dishes.
Today I went grocery shopping and:
Steamed brussle-y sprouts
Made mashed cauliflower
Made a teriyaki stir-fry with chick-chick, snow peas, green and red peppers, mushrooms, onions and garlic
Made a compote (sauce? I keep thinking of it as a compote, so I'll stick with that) of blueberries and strawberries (with a tad too much water, fresh berries, a few tablespoons of sugar, a dollop of honey and some cornstarch) that I can put on top of the home made Angel Food Cake (home bought by me) from the green grocer across the street.
And cleaned everything up after I was done. Even the stove.
It's a mad, mad world.
*
I am almost done with my Spikeathon fic, after completely rewriting the whole thing and I have ideas for my Spike/Buffyathon and the Angstathon I have coming up next. I still haven't gotten my Spikeslashathon assignment, but it's probably just as well. These ficathons are like rodents. Let one or two in and they will just breed and breed and breed little fic rats and it's a never ending loop.
I'm strangely okay with this.
Say! Can anyone swing a beta for me? I'm almost done, and should be finished tomorrow.
It's a Spike fic, and it's het, though it really isn't one of my normal het pairings (which would be, well, Spuffy). It's a little dirty, a little sweet, a little angsty and a lot unbetaed.
*
Again it's Sunday, it's Sunday again. Work tomorrow which means tomorrow I work. And, apparently, take a test (I asked, and there are no rewards for our training even though we get tested and stuff. I was told, when I asked, that our reward is that we would have a job, which I suppose is a pretty damn good award. But it would have been nice to have a shiny piece of paper proclaiming me the Diamond Grading Queen of the World or something. Maybe with glitter).
Mmmmm, I have Chinese food for lunch tomorrow. Moo Shoo Chicken, steamed veggies ('cept I tossed out the water chestnuts. Blech) and boneless spare ribs (my guilty Chinese food pleasure).
Bad news: Chinese food is freaking expensive!
Good news: The portions are big enough to feed a small country. Or a large country of people who don't eat a lot.
Colin Firth on SNL was silly. It was eh, though I did love the monologue (He was quoting Pride and Prejudice! And Shakespeare! I'm only human!
He is pretty, though. Mmmmm, Firth. Mmmm, voice of Firth.
Final random thought: SQUEEEEEE!!! Next week is "Gay Xander in Canada pretending to be New York!!!"
My excitement, it knows no bounds.
Also? I think maybe James Marsters (and I officially can't see the word 'master' without automatically reading it as 'Marsters') is actually an evil, horrid man with a power of fear akin to Tony Soprano or maybe the Godfather. I have never heard one person who had worked with/around/through Mutant Enemy say a single negative thing about him. At all. (Other then the story He told about the stunt coordinators giving him a hard time for not wearing any underwear which is just weird. Why would anyone give him a hard time for going commando? It does not compute) It’s highly suspicious.
Good Night, New York!
If I didn't know I was me I would have wondered who I was and what I had done with myself.
But it was just swell. And I heard Like a Pill by Pink which is a fabulous song to sing along to as you do dishes.
Today I went grocery shopping and:
Steamed brussle-y sprouts
Made mashed cauliflower
Made a teriyaki stir-fry with chick-chick, snow peas, green and red peppers, mushrooms, onions and garlic
Made a compote (sauce? I keep thinking of it as a compote, so I'll stick with that) of blueberries and strawberries (with a tad too much water, fresh berries, a few tablespoons of sugar, a dollop of honey and some cornstarch) that I can put on top of the home made Angel Food Cake (home bought by me) from the green grocer across the street.
And cleaned everything up after I was done. Even the stove.
It's a mad, mad world.
*
I am almost done with my Spikeathon fic, after completely rewriting the whole thing and I have ideas for my Spike/Buffyathon and the Angstathon I have coming up next. I still haven't gotten my Spikeslashathon assignment, but it's probably just as well. These ficathons are like rodents. Let one or two in and they will just breed and breed and breed little fic rats and it's a never ending loop.
I'm strangely okay with this.
Say! Can anyone swing a beta for me? I'm almost done, and should be finished tomorrow.
It's a Spike fic, and it's het, though it really isn't one of my normal het pairings (which would be, well, Spuffy). It's a little dirty, a little sweet, a little angsty and a lot unbetaed.
*
Again it's Sunday, it's Sunday again. Work tomorrow which means tomorrow I work. And, apparently, take a test (I asked, and there are no rewards for our training even though we get tested and stuff. I was told, when I asked, that our reward is that we would have a job, which I suppose is a pretty damn good award. But it would have been nice to have a shiny piece of paper proclaiming me the Diamond Grading Queen of the World or something. Maybe with glitter).
Mmmmm, I have Chinese food for lunch tomorrow. Moo Shoo Chicken, steamed veggies ('cept I tossed out the water chestnuts. Blech) and boneless spare ribs (my guilty Chinese food pleasure).
Bad news: Chinese food is freaking expensive!
Good news: The portions are big enough to feed a small country. Or a large country of people who don't eat a lot.
Colin Firth on SNL was silly. It was eh, though I did love the monologue (He was quoting Pride and Prejudice! And Shakespeare! I'm only human!
He is pretty, though. Mmmmm, Firth. Mmmm, voice of Firth.
Final random thought: SQUEEEEEE!!! Next week is "Gay Xander in Canada pretending to be New York!!!"
My excitement, it knows no bounds.
Also? I think maybe James Marsters (and I officially can't see the word 'master' without automatically reading it as 'Marsters') is actually an evil, horrid man with a power of fear akin to Tony Soprano or maybe the Godfather. I have never heard one person who had worked with/around/through Mutant Enemy say a single negative thing about him. At all. (Other then the story He told about the stunt coordinators giving him a hard time for not wearing any underwear which is just weird. Why would anyone give him a hard time for going commando? It does not compute) It’s highly suspicious.
Good Night, New York!
