All Logs go to Heaven
2.27.03 Doing the Lab
This afternoon, I started a scientist's equivelent of a journal: a lab book. Not that I'm suddenly Cap'n Science, but it's a lovely, Sweetie-suggested way I can keep track of recipe tinkerings--much tidier and more effective than my current little random scraps of paper that end up crammed in a plastic sheet protector. (Said protector is now a couple inches thick.)
I got to look at Sweetie's lab book from 1990/91, and much of it is like a journal, but with a point. Nice if all journals had points, other than "oh, what a misunderstood person I yam", or "dude, this combination of pot and 'phines gives me so much creativity!
Sweetie's was graded, so I plan on offering up mine to be graded, too. Of course, when you can actually eat some of the results, grades tend to be higher. I once frosted a cake to demonstrate all the parts of a cell--blue gel was one part, and little silver dragees were another. All in all, I used about 15 different toppings. And, duh, got an "A".
Another lab-related thought- Brothermine and I had a joke in our [his] college years re: our forays into the field of pharmacology. He did the book work, I did the lab. Hoo.
2.27.03 This Time
I'm sure of it: I'm really in love. Why have none of you purchased the CD for me, A Little T & A Never Hurt Nobody?
And a special thank-you to Bust for introducing me to my new love, and Sweetie for renewing my subscription. Sweetie, I'm off to seek my fortune as a Wau-Wau Cousin, since there's still a waiting list for the Sweet Potato Queens. I know you'll understand.
2.26.03 Sigh.
Don't ever think the world can't get more stupid than it already is.
2.25.02 Fruitarian Vampires
Have you ever eaten an blood orange? The name always grossed me out, and I had my first one last week. Amazing. The flavor is more like raspberry than orange--pure and sweet. Anthocyanin is what gives 'em that freaky red color--and that's a good chemical. Try these suggestions, or just go peel and eat (warning: they don't peel easily, and the juice will dye your fingers and maybe even your counter.)
So worth it.
2.24.02 Long Time
I knew I'd been busy, but so busy I skipped 10 days? Tsk. My internal soundtrack of 80s pop and 70s commercials ("gee, your hair smells terrific!) has been drowned out by the longing sighs of all of you. Shh. It's all ok now. What have I been doing, you ask?
- Watching The Two Towers and coming to the definite conclusion that I like the first one better. Remembered that when I was Very Thin and Terribly Unhealthy, a college friend called me Golum, as I looked like the Golum in her mind or from the old cartoon Hobbit. I would like to say that at least I had a full head of hair, and my eyes are green, not blue. And I hardly ever argued out loud with myself. Glad that's cleared up.
- Also, no groveling.
- Cooking the best dinner I have ever cooked: bacon-wrapped tenderloins with gorgonzola butter, garlic mashed potatoes with sherry-herb pan sauce, braised greens with lemon, and hot fudge brownie sundaes. Valentine's Day is best spent at home.
- Writing/researching like crazy, as plan to have book proposal to prospective agent by Friday. Fingers would be crossed, but can't type with crossed fingers.
- Also, didn't eat raw fish. Still don't.
- Saw Purty Mouth. Realized I will never again give a name to anything as good as my proposed snack delivery service: Deliverance.
- Saw my first rugby game. Lots of mud. Lots of fights. Excellent.
- Setting up WS's first ever bridal event, with The Ruins, Lisa Dupar Catering, and Snoqualmie Gourmet Ice Cream. All of these are lovely folk are clients of Ms. Fabulous, and I could never have pulled it together so quickly without her. If any of y'all happen to be getting hitched, email me and I'll set you up with an invitation.
- Also, I don't know the way through the marsh in Mordor. And if I did, I'm not sure I'd show it to a hobbit. It would depend on things.
2.10.03 WWJD?
I'll be better in no time at all. Praise Jeebiz. This guy has a huge series--I think my favorite is "The Bible Cure for Hepatitis", although "The Bible Cure for Menopause" has a certain charm. Especially when you remember Sarah giving birth at age, what was it, 90? "Cure for menopause" indeed.
2.7.03 Events
I have been asked to assist in event planning with WS--we're using my contacts to create a pile of in-store tastings and book signings and sitch. Should be fun; I have a few concerns about separating out the event planning from the event publicizing, but I'll work it out as it comes. No big deal.
Want a job? Or, well, need a job? You should get a job with this company. They have a pile of open positions in Seattle and NYC; the list is actually not quite current on the site, so apply, apply, apply. They're smart. They're cool. They're making money. You will be able to respect your coworkers. Can you honestly say that now? I didn't think so.
2.5.03 Referrals
As always, all of my blood tests are entirely normal. I don't mind not having a name for what's wrong, but I do wish I had a way of fixing it. In the morning, I can hardly dress myself, as my hands don't really work. No further updates until the end of March, when I have the first available appointment with a rheumatologist.
I had a terribly frightening nightmare a couple of days ago, invloving a car with a difficult-to-understand nintendo-like driving mechanism. I ended up steering the vehicle off a cliff, killing Sweetie and myself, with a terribly long fall sort of dream sequence. For the first time ever, we actually landed before waking up--the super slow motion feeling was really odd. I remember hearing as a kid that with those falling dreams, if you didn't wake up before you landed, you would die for real. So when Sweetie woke me up--apparently, I was yelling quite a bit--my first thought was "wait, am I dead"? It makes me want to compile playground wisdom.
Sweetie's company got some nice recognition, which seemed to help the stock pop up a few cents. Our dreams of early retirement have become more like dreams of seeing the price hit a number larger than my dress size. In the meantime, awards are nice.
2.3.03 Tea
Increased methadone has made me groggy, and I have been drinking much more lovely tea than usual. I know that Stash is considered pretty bleh for tea these days, but I like it. And I get paid to write about food, so I must know, right?
If you like to read diary sort of things, you should read Stay Me, oh Comfort Me and the earlier volume. Here is something I really liked:
The news that the Germans are within seventy miles of Paris sent Timmy, crumpled and terribly old, weeping away. I could not follow him. I felt anything as actual as arms and kisses and tenderness would be obscene. I sat for a time and then played Tchaikovsky's concerto, that rather bangy silly piano thing, on the gramophone, and in a while he came in and I finished the album without looking at him and then went into the bathroom and found when I put on new lipstick that my mouth had gone all crooked and sideways, apparently forever.
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