My friend made me butternut squash last night and it was out of this world. She made it just for me (and Mr. T) because I said I liked it. It was really nice. I may not have 500 friends, but the ones I have are really awesome.
Oh look, Mr. T just posted a picture of it on Facebook so I can show you!
Look! Doesn’t it look delicious? It was.
I also made a really easy creamy chicken orzo recipe the other night that was overall quite edible and plan to soon make chicken Milanese all fancy like. I just wanted to get that out there. Maybe I’ll take pictures and show them off like you care, but I probably won’t.
Mr. T mentioned his stock market value rising somewhat the other day. I automatically suggested he fund my move to a private island. I told him to augment that income, I would start a blog called “Fish in Hats”. I now think it’s the most genius idea I’ve ever had and really want to do it. Come on… it would be fish… in hats! Instant gold. GOLD…fish!
I get uncomfortable when people talk about the stock market because I don’t understand it. I don’t even know what accounts I’m invested (vested?) in under my 401(k). Or if that sentence I just typed even made sense.
I think my dad would love me more if I knew what the stock market was.
I’ll probably try to learn what the stock market is before I go to Vegas with my family in May to garner more of my father’s love.
I have daddy issues. But you guys know this.
I’m pretty sure when my dad meets Mr. T he’s going to like him more than me because he knows what the stock market is and how to play poker. That’s cool I guess, at least he’ll like me more for picking a cool boyfriend.
I heard a story about a bunch of girls I don’t know crying in public after getting too drunk at New Year’s. It made me feel validated because I’ve been that girl so many times. It feels good to have company. I kind of want to hunt them down and befriend them. CRYING IN PUBLIC DOES NOT MEAN YOU’RE CRAZY!
I still have a bottle of champagne in my fridge because I was so lame on New Year’s I didn’t drink it. I think I’ll have it on a Monday with a McDonald’s happy meal, just to be ironic.
I’m an English major, and I’m not 100% certain that was the proper usage of the word ironic, but I’m too lazy to look it up.
It really pisses me off when people ask me grammatical questions “because I was an English major”. Bitch, I learned that 15 years ago in elementary school. We didn’t study verbs in college. Look it up. It’s called Google.
I need to do something with my life soon so I can post about real things and not just random stream of consciousness crazy talk that probably has you all thinking I’m ridiculous.
I actually am doing some cool stuff soon, but I don’t know if I’ll even blog about it because I’m that lazy. Tonight I’m going to the Kennedy Center for the first time (and I’m SO excited) and for my birthday I’m going to Komi (the #1 restaurant in DC, supposedly) to eat fancy ass rich people food. I won’t fit in, but I like to eat a lot, so I’m still super excited about that too. From what I understand it could be the culinary experience of a lifetime. I don’t think cameras are allowed, but for that reason alone I might try to be a renegade and take some iPhone shots. I’m a rebel.
Actually I’m not a rebel, I’m an extreme rule follower. If I even think I might be breaking one I start to sweat profusely. The rich people probably wouldn’t appreciate that.
I have a new obsession with egg salad sandwiches. I never ate them before because they smell like farts and remind me of tuna salad sandwiches, which I hate. But I tried one the other day when our boss brought some in because we were working late and my life was forever changed.
I need gum.
I feel uncomfortable concluding this post on the note that I have fart breath, but I’m going to anyways. Gotta go pump some iron, which I have been doing religiously for over a month now without having lost a single pound of fat, rendering me very bitter (<- rendering… get it?)