So it’s exactly 6 days til Christmas and you still don’t have gifts yet? That’s totally okay guys! I have a gift right here that literally takes minutes. No joke, I wouldn’t lie to you.
Heck yeah alliteration! Don’t you love it? I do. But I’m a dork. True story. My best friend growing up nicknamed me Krod, it’s dork backwards. Yeah, that really singles you out as a dork, huh? Whatever. I like it.
Anyway, anyone else having epic heat waves this week? Holy cow, can’t even handle it. I have a terrible time regulating my body temperature. If it’s cold outside I’m 20 degrees colder, if it’s warm outside I’m 20 degrees warmer, if it’s hot outside, I die. Another true story. I’m actually a ghost writing this post right now.
Oh my, Chitlins. Stressed, high blood pressure, frenzied – none of these words come close to explaining my day today. I’m terribly sorry for not posting earlier! Even though I had a lovely and relaxing weekend in Vermont, while The BF and a few friends tried to squeeze in one last ski trip for the season. With my big half-marathon next weekend, my first of the year, I declined to ski and instead took the monster dog, Moose, that was staying with us for a lovely two hour hike.
“You can’t be like pancakes. All exciting at first, but by the end you’re f–king sick of them.”
Being a responsible adult I decided that in preparation for this hurricane business we’d need at least some healthy food in the house (in addition to our four types of chips, three different cookies and a 30 rack of beer). So I very responsibly bought a tub of blueberries. Here, you can see them in the fridge, I’m serious. The only healthy food in the entire apartment.
Thank god it wasn’t the end of the world. I’m not sure how long we would have survived. Then again, there are a lot of preservatives in that food, so maybe our odds would have been better than I predicted.
I bought these blueberries for a very specific reason. See, I’m not particularly fond of fresh fruit – except grapefruit, I’ll gobble that stuff up like it’s going out of style. But there is just something about the texture of fresh fruit that really bugs me. Don’t even get me started on melons, ugh. I certainly wasn’t going to eat these berries fresh, that’d be silly. I was gunna make pancakes. They were either going to be celebration pancakes for surviving this hurricane, or misery pancakes because it was just starting (get it, blueberries? Blue pancakes? Misery is blue? Forget it). Either way, I was dead set on making them.
Except, I was at The BFs apartment, and other than a surprisingly well-stocked spice rack, there isn’t much in the way of baking ingredients. Hence why I was bored to tears on Saturday. The boys were playing Fight Night Championship (for hours!) and I was wallowing in self-pity. I wasn’t allowed to go outside; I couldn’t even watch TV (not that they would have liked what I would have picked anyway); there was nothing for me to bake with; I’m in a book funk at the moment – I can’t find anything that interests me – and I hadn’t bought a cross-stitch like N. and her sister. So I took to moaning about how bored I was. For six hours. I was great company.