Well I feel like shit!

No posts recently – I’ve been sick since last week. Bleh. No fever (merci à dieu!) – but miserably achy and per usual neither aspirin nor Wal-profen are providing any relief. Wish I had some Percocet lying around… But enough about me!

Anyway, this did manage to elicit a wan smile from me – and I’m sure if I were my usual vibrantly healthy self, I’d’ve guffawed. Enjoy!

from The Hairpin

Wow! I can cook the shit outta some pasta…

OK, I seldom use this forum to toot my own horn (heh, yeah right…). But I decided to use up the rest of the cream I bought this week with another serving of pasta with peas, shallots and lemon. And, as I often do, I made a few adjustments to the recipe based on previous experience – which, if I do say so myself, resulted in an amazing bowl of pasta. Just enough salt, cream, lemon and parmigiano – plus the shallots were cooked exactly right and the peas (yes, frozen) were still bright green and both crispy and tender… It was perfect (though I suppose I should’ve added some pignoli…) and I feel sorry for everyone who didn’t get to have this for dinner.

I think I have a case of the Mondays…

I knew I had some leftover pasta from last night waiting at home for dinner this evening – Gemelli con Pisselini, Scagloni e Crema al Limone, to be exact. But sadly, as I suspected, it wasn’t quite a dinner-sized portion and I was still a bit peckish after finishing…

Luckily though, I had cucumber, roasted peppers, ceci, scallions and feta cheese – all I’d need to create a nice hearty salad to round out dinner. But then I thought to myself, “Self, that really sounds like quite a production, having to chop and peel and make dressing – ugh, I’m exhausted just thinking about it…”

So I decided to have a secondo piatto of all the ice cream left in my freezer. Turned out to be a wise decision – so much easier! And really, I was just tidying the place up. Not to mention that a major reason I commute by bike is so that I can drink more wine eat more ice cream…

Pecans are healthy, right?

“The likeness is… um… startling? Yes, startling – that’s it…”

Ordinarily I’d run out and buy these magnificent dolls, because really who doesn’t love some Kate and Wils dolls – or any kind of dolls, for that matter? They are not weird or creepy at all!

But on closer inspection, I’m pretty sure that these two come to life while you’re sleeping and eat your face off, so I guess I’ll pass. Oh well!

from Dlisted

Quote of the Day

Diana Vilibert over at The Hairpin posted a recipe for a Chocolate Bramble – apparently a good way to use up leftover gin (do people really have leftover booze? Not a big problem in my place…) that you don’t want to pack when you’re moving. But my favorite part was her definition of packing panic that sets in during the last days before having to move – the moment when you realize that you are nowhere near finished and you have no idea how you’ll ever be ready in time and why did you ever decide to move in the first place?

One minute you’re carefully wrapping your candles in tissue paper before setting them down in the shoebox you’ve carefully marked (with a brand new Sharpie and a newly discovered talent in calligraphy) as the candle shoebox. And the next, you’re sweating and throwing your vibrator in with your shoes and Tupperware, and you’re hunched over and limping for some reason, and marking all of the boxes “miscellaneous” and then “misc.” and finally just telling yourself you don’t need to mark the boxes; that you’ll definitely remember that, obviously, the sort of smallish, but not the smallest, maybe third smallest box is the Nair and baking supplies box.

The “Nair and baking supplies box” continues to kill me. Also, I am never moving ever, if only to avoid having to pack.

Practicality > Sex Appeal

I got a beam rack for my bike, along with a pack designed to work with it. I’m the first to admit, a bike trunk is going to seriously impinge on my bike’s faux-hipster cred – but on the other hand it seems to be perfect. I can fit in my gym gear, my locks and one bottle of wine. Or no gym gear, three bottles of wine and a pint of ice cream. And I could probably fit in a small box of Kleenex, since I’m usually crying when I eat the ice cream…

Happily, though, the rack has a quick release lever – so I can remove it for weekend rides and thus continue to elicit “What is that wrinkly old guy doing riding such a cool bike?” stares from all and sundry.