After work on Friday, H. and I watched the prequel to The Silence of the Lambs, called Red Dragon. It starred the Hannibal guy, the guy from The Illusionist and Fight Club who is very famous but I can't think of his name right now, and some other people we recognized but couldn't place. It was ... interesting. I wouldn't say that I liked it, but I didn't hate it either. I wouldn't watch it again, but at the same time it was cerebral and enticing to watch, because you wanted to figure out the plot and everything. I told H. we can watch Silence of the Lambs, but we might hold off on that for a week or two. Don't want too much horror crowding my brain waves whilst I sleep.
Saturday was the bulk of our lazy day, and Sunday we went to JcPenny's to buy H. some work shirts and pants. He wanted some short-sleeved dress shirts, so he can look fancy but still be comfortable in the heat. I thought the store was in the nearby mall, but I was wrong, and we drove to the next nearest store.
The nearest store was in another mall, some fifteen minutes from the first. The parking lot was fairly empty, but then it was Sunday of Memorial Day Weekend. We walked through the entrance, and about fifty feet later came to the main hall of the mall. In front of us was JcPenny's, but what was more interesting was the complete emptiness of the main hall. Immediately, both H. and I said something about a post-apocalyptic zombie attack, and we hurried into the department store. The store itself was nice; kind of old, but filled with new merchandise and wares. We noticed an escalator leading downward - this was odd, as we walked into the mall on the main floor. Rather, it's the main floor of the earth, and the thought of seeing the underbelly of the store was thrilling. Taking the escalator down, we passed by the children's section and headed for the home section, walking through the lamps and frames first. We were the only two people down here besides the workers, and it was nice having it all to ourselves. Even if there was the feeling of being buried alive (it's been a long time since I've been in a glorified basement, and I felt a little claustrophobic). We looked at window treatments, heavy curtains, and sat down on every couch they had set up to test for comfortableness.
When we were done goofing around, we went back up to the main level and out to the main hall. As we were walking around, we noticed that there were only four stores open, and one was having a store-closing sale. Everything else was either wired shut or boarded up and desolate. H. commented that it would be neat to buy the whole building, move out the remaining stores, and convert it into a paintball course. He'd have some old car overturned at the entrance, open up all the stores and put objects to hide behind and whatnot in them, then rent out the building to random people or teams for them to use. There were a lot of windows, so we'd have to treat those with black paint, otherwise it would be easy to see people running around. Neat idea, as long as it makes us money (cha-ching!).
For our fancy faux-versary dinner, we had Chip-o-top-lays, Chipootles, Chipotle. I tried to pick the least spicy ingredients, and it was very tasty up until I got one mouthful of something so spicy it made me nauseous. Thank goodness we decided not to eat at the restaurant, and we had milk on-hand in the apartment. I just hope that the other half of my barbacoa bowl doesn't have a spicy surprise for me during lunch today.
I forgot to show you how our pot roast turned out! I think I cooked it a little too long, because it was falling apart a little too much for me, but the taste was great.
Bad picture, but here's the remaining half that we didn't eat the first night. Underneath the brothy liquid are some potatoes, carrots (need to add more of those, so good!), and onions. I underestimated the amount of salt needed to flavor the amount of liquid, so we just sprinkled some on before eating. I have a chronic fear of oversalting things, but I'm trying to remedy that.
Today we're planning to pick up a Costco chicken and turn it into either chicken salad or chicken enchiladas. Deciding between the two is never easy, but I doubt H. and I could two whole chickens before they went bad. C'est la vie!
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