The Constant Gardener.

I'm having a very dizzy day. Actually, that's not right - it's more lightheaded with a bit of dizzy thrown in. Maybe it was the Zyrtec I took this morning on an empty stomach. In any case, it feels like I'm wearing a football helmet with the trouble hearing and the weird light pressure. At least there's no pain. I took a multivitamin with my lunch, so maybe that will help a little.

In the meantime, I would like to show you my wildflowers. True, they haven't budded yet, but they're getting there (I hope). It seems like every day I find the stems in different positions. One day they're over here, the next day they've grown over there; perhaps they're following the sunlight throughout the day. Here's what the window box looks like now, compared to a month ago.

It's a forest. 

At this point, everything is spilling over the edge of the box - which, if you think about it, is pretty smart for a plant. I remember a month ago seeing a plant that was withering from lack of sun, and gingerly placing one of its leaves over the edge of the box. That was all it needed, and now it's a thriving young sucker.

Leo was the first plant to figure out the edge trick. I have a sneaking suspicion that his root system is more advanced than any of the other plants, judging by how much he's grown in relation to them. Leo now hangs out between the blinds on the window ledge.

This is Leo. His stem must be pretty strong to not bend over the edge.

Even though he gets the most sunlight by chilling out on the ledge, his leaves bend under themselves like they're not getting enough water. Which I find hard to believe because of his supposed extensive root system. It's a balancing act, watering him more than the others, but he hasn't died yet, so I feel like I'm doing alright.

Leo's the only plant with a red-purple stem. 

That's a slightly better representation of all the bending he's done. I've he pretty much snaked his way down to the ledge, then grew straight up once he was there. Well, straight up as in his stem now resembles a U shape. Oh, a couple of days ago, there was a beetle nibbling away at Leo's leaves, much like a caterpillar would. There aren't any pictures, because now that beetle lives in the sewage system. I think I caught the beetle early enough that it didn't damage any of the leaves too badly.

Leo's stem, again. With some friends.

When the sprouts were young, I thought I only had five varieties. Now that the plants have started to mature, I think there are seven varieties. You can see in the picture above that the leaves have different colors, now. They also feel different to the touch. I am just hoping they'll all make it to the budding stage so I can identify what I've got. 

Even though Leo's the only plant I can remember the name of, he's not my favorite one of the bunch. That would be the fuzzy leaf plant that lives on the end of the block. Huge leaves, central sprouting instead of a stalk, and sensational to the touch.

Hey guys, what's up? Nothin' much here, just hanging out. 

Little needles covering every inch of leaf. 

It should feel like a cactus, but it feels like a cat. Super soft.

Those 'buds' are just leaves that haven't grown up yet. 

I must admit that I like looking at the patterns that the plants are creating. There's one in particular that shoots off secondary stems from the main line, and these grow straight up and sprout stars on the end. This is probably the most pretty plant so far. 

Blurry, but you see what I mean. Super cute, too.

Here's a look from above the window box. A nice panoramic from a person's perspective. Don't mind the pile of leaves on the southern edge of the box. I try to trim off the leaves that look like they're on their way out. I think the plant prefers that to holding onto a withering leaf. They'll thank me later.

It's a puzzle where you have to follow one stem to the end to get a prize.

And that concludes today's botany course. I feel a little less dizzy, so maybe this spell is almost over. It's a good thing last night's dinner carries over into tonight's. Otherwise, we might have had to suffer through delivery pizza. Hope all is well with all of you.

The Birthday Legacy.

I like to think I'm a wizard with birthday presents. I can have a person in my mind and easily come up with a gift for them that I think they would like. Usually I get a warm and enthusiastic response from the recipient. There is one person, however, that I have incredible trouble with finding them a present. That person just so happens to be my husband.

One of the first birthday gifts I gave him is now an Apples to Apples card in his family's house. I wanted to get him something useful, so I got him a five subject notebook. He accepted the gift graciously, but I still felt bad that it didn't have any bells or whistles or pizzazz. Luckily, he forgot about this gift by the next time his birthday rolled around.

The second birthday gift I got H. was something that I had put a lot of thought into. He was having a sore neck recently, so I got him one of those memory foam pillows. The minute the wrapping paper came off, H. said to me, "Is this a joke?"  I was crestfallen. Apparently he can't get to sleep when using a memory foam pillow. I felt so bad that I wanted to make up for it, and fast. The next time I saw him, I had a variety pack of his favorite kind of beer. As it turns out, one of those new flavors is now his absolute favorite.

The third birthday gift I got H. was actually pretty great. I had noticed his old wallet was literally coming apart at the seams, so I found a nice replacement wallet. He really liked the wallet, but I felt like it was cheating - I didn't exactly come up with a new idea.

This year, I had a good idea. Not great, but pretty good. H.'s headphones had lost their battle with the washing machine (from this day forward I will double check his super deep pockets), so I ordered him a new set that were exactly like mine. I ordered the same model because on our last trip to Texas he borrowed my headphones for the flight. Instead of pink ones, I ordered him white ones. As he was opening up the package, he jokingly asked if these were the same as my crappy pink ones. Turns out he didn't like the way sound came out of my headphones. I cast off the shocked feeling and vowed to find him a better birthday present.

His present arrived yesterday. I painted some colorful stripes on a piece of paper, then wrapped up his gift. Watching him open it was killing me - I just really wanted to make up for the awful gift a week before. He absolutely loved what I got him, and I was so proud of myself for finding something useful and awesome.

Can for perspective.

Up close of the rocks. They feel so smooth!

These are small cubes of granite that come in a velvet pouch. You put them in the freezer, then use them as ice cubes. I learned early on in our marriage that H. does not like adding ice to many (if any) beverages because they dilute the flavor of the substance in the glass. These rocks are easy to rinse off, they dry quickly, and 'freeze' fast to boot. H. said that these rocks are "awesome", and that makes me happier than getting a five subject notebook for my birthday.

Where The Weekend Lives.

It was really nice spending time with H. this weekend. We watched movies, played a little Starcraft, and cheered for the Rangers. Staying cocooned inside the apartment, it felt like we were on our own little island. Except for that maintenance guy with the clunky ladder outside our front door. Apparently he lives on our island as well.

Despicable Me, oh how I identify with thee. I'm Agnes, the youngest girl, and I love unicorns, candy, and bedtime stories. H. is Edith, the middle child, and he's always up to something, always causing mischief. Somehow we missed the names of the cast doing the voices that scrolled at the start of the film, and so we kept trying to figure out who was who throughout the movie. I had a hard time attaching Steve Carell's voice to Gru - every time I heard his voice I saw the face of Michael from the office. Very bazaar.

Last night we had spaghetti and meat sauce for dinner. I was on the phone with H.'s brother at the moment that H. literally forked some noodles onto his plate. I guess he forgot that we had two kinds of tongs and just dove right in, which made some of the noodles spill over the edge of the pot and onto the stove. I think I shrieked, then found the tongs and handed them to him. Fast forward to after dinner, after the movie, and stop right where we're putting the leftovers into containers to put in the fridge. I foolishly gave H. the task of putting the noodles into a plastic container. Actually, to his credit, he got them into the container just fine. But then somehow the container slipped, and all of the noodles dropped to the floor. I looked at the scene, saw H.'s sad face, then burst out laughing. Now I have something to tease him about for the foreseeable future. MUAHAHAHA.

I'll leave you with this mental image. As I got into my car yesterday, I saw a lady walking up the stairs to her apartment with her dog (looked like a boxer, or some similar large sized dog). They made it halfway up the stairs when the dog just stopped. He stood there in the sun, completely ignoring his owner's prods and tugs and pleas. Then the lady bent over, picked up the dog's front two feet, and placed them on the next stair up. Then she did the same thing with the rear two legs. Back and forth and back and forth, and I couldn't help myself but laugh out loud and somewhat loudly as I sat in my car waiting for the air conditioning to kick in. I think she heard me, because as soon as I let out that cackle, she turned and looked right at me. I quickly put the car in reverse and moved my hiney out of there.

Enjoy your Sunday!

Stuck.

Ever wake up and realize that you've completely wasted months of your life? Yeah, me too. Except I've been waking up for the past month with that same realization punching me in the face every single day. Not the best feeling. I've wasted nearly nine months looking for a job that doesn't exist. Okay, technically it does exist, but it just doesn't exist here. Hi, my name is Alice, and I chased the rabbit down the hole. I've been falling ever since. And now I'm stuck in job limbo while H. sorts some things out with his work. I'd give details, but I don't want to get my hopes up too high. 

All I'm saying is that I hate being in the apartment all day. I would love to take a walk outside and clear my head without being burned alive. Sure, I could go to the mall or a coffee shop, but I would feel guilty spending money on something that I don't need. It also sucks that I don't know anyone out here. I guess it's partly my fault for not getting into the family group at H.'s work. There's a monthly newsletter with events and such put on by the wives of the company, but after learning that H. was the youngest new hire by about ten years (and being put off by their $20 luncheons), I decided not to get involved. That might have been a mistake, but I just wasn't interested. 

I just wish I could go back in time, take one or two specific courses in college, then move forward. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, but you can't change the past. Right now, I feel like I'm in between phases in my life (how cliche does that sound?), and I just want the next one to start already. In a world where all I have is time, life isn't moving fast enough. I just have to keep the faith that everything will work out.

Even if you fall on your face, you're still moving forward. ~ Victor Kiam

Quick Crustless Quiche.

It occurred to me while I was making quiche tonight that I never actually posted a picture of it. That's about to be remedied. I love that you could add anything into this, and I keep telling myself I'll mix it up the next time I make it, but this version turns out so well that I don't want to mess with it. I originally found the recipe on this website.

Crustless Quiche 
- cheese (I use Colby Jack)
- 2 Tbsp. butter, melted
- 4 eggs
- 1 tsp. salt
- 1/2 c. flour
- 1 1/2 c. milk
- green onions, chopped
- mushrooms, chopped
- turkey sausage, chopped

Preheat oven to 350 F. Grease a glass pie pan or quiche pan. Chop ingredients for filling (green onions, mushrooms, turkey sausage). Grate cheese, strew across bottom of pan. Place filling ingredients on top of cheese.

In a bowl, whisk together eggs, butter, milk, and salt until well combined. Add flour, and whisk until just combined. Do NOT over-whisk (there will be flour lumps). 

Bake for ~35 minutes. Quiche should be firm throughout. 

And, as always, don't forget the garlic powder! As my father-in-law says, "Garlic powder goes in everything." Except desserts. And drinks. And ice cream. But seriously, don't forget it.

Edit: Do not use a quiche pan. I bought this one from BB&B, and the quiche was crawling up and over the sides of the pan. I ended up putting a baking sheet underneath it, but not before some of the cheese got pushed out and onto the bottom of the oven. Next time, I'll definitely be using that glass pie pan.

In daily news, I finally got a picture of a squirrel! I was on my way out to the car when I hear some rustling behind me. I stopped, and so did the movement.

Their camouflage ability is incredible.

Munch munch munch.

Someone had dropped saltines all over the ground in the parking lot, and this little guy had stolen one and started his getaway plan when I walked by. I was amazed that he held completely still while I pulled out my phone to take a picture. Well, he was nibbling on the cracker. Once I'd taken the money shot, I took one step away from him and he moved like a lightning bolt down the sidewalk. I'm not sure if he was scared or if it was just the heat from the cement that made him move so fast.

Perpetual Party People.

H.'s birthday is this Sunday, but he's got this Friday off, so I figured why not get the festivities started now? I baked a cheesecake last night, but for some reason it had much too much lemon flavor for either of us to stomach. I cringed as I tossed it in the trash, but it had to be done. I baked one this morning to replace it, and neither of us have tried it yet (it's in the fridge, cooling off its toasty buns), for fear of jinxing the flavor. Or maybe our healthy eating habits have kicked in and we don't eat dessert before dinner.

Tonight's dinner was brought to you by the fine people at Chipotoplay. Chipootles. Chipotsley. While H. was hard at work programming up a storm, I was ordering his dinner and accidentally ordered myself some pico de gallo. The man behind the counter asked if I wanted some, I said No, and he put it on my bowl anyway. This is probably the best thing that's happened to me, because I was in pico de gallo spicy denial. That's Latin for confuzzled. See, the last time I ordered pico de gallo, I had one huge spicy bite of something, and blamed it on the cilantro mixed in with those tomatoes. Now that I've tasted it and found it to be nowhere near spicy, I conclude it must have been either the meat or the corn (which sometimes has spicy elements to it) that I skipped over in my spicy blame conclusion. Now I have to go and apologize to those poor tomatoes that I've been shunning.

Tomorrow is Day 2 of H.'s Birthday Weekend, and while I don't have anything planned, I wouldn't put it past me to come up with something festive. Like going to a testosterone-filled war movie or a comic book movie (it's a good thing Tom Cruise As A Spy The Third doesn't come out until Thanksgiving or Christmas or thereabouts). While I do enjoy those films, would it hurt a certain someone to go and watch One Day in theaters? ... Now that I think about it, he might start bleeding from his eyes, and then it would go down in history as the worst birthday weekend ever. Even worse than that one time I got him a five-subject notebook as a birthday present (he totally wanted something useful!).

The day after that is H.'s actual birthday, and I would like for us to go out to eat somewhere for lunch. What's that? Dinner is more romantic? Well kids, dinner would coincide with the football preseason game H. is so revved up for. It is his birthday, I suppose. But hey, if we did lunch, then I wouldn't have to cook dinner because there would be leftovers! I like this concept very, very much.

Enough about my all-star husband. I would like to announce that I applied to a retail job today. BedBath&Beyond, you better watch out. I'm going to be CEO of the company in two months time. We'll stop selling towels and linens and start selling more of those Crackpots. And we'll have a whole marketing division dedicated to coming up with drug related product names. We're expanding our horizons people, grabbing those neglected demographics and showing them that they, too, can have quality products in their homes. One day, BB&B, one day.

The man that interviewed me said that they have 27 part-time employees and two full-time employees. I don't mind part-time in the slightest. I'm going crazy sitting around here everyday trying to come up with new ways to entertain myself (like that treacherous mountain driving trip). I might even go back to Kohl's and request full-time, or at least part-time, and get to wear the badge that says "I work two jobs - FEAR ME." I'm sure somebody makes those. When the guy asked why I wanted to work at his store, the first thing that popped out of my mouth was, "Because it smells so good in here!" I'm glad he laughed, because that could have been a very awkward moment in the interview process. They do sell some of the most amazing scented candles, though. It permeates from the back of the building to the front door. In the end, he said that he'd recommend me to his store manager, who would review next week all of the applications they collected this week. That gives me a couple of days to find a second job.

Oh! I almost forgot! First stop on my second job adventure was Hallmark (a hundred feet from BB&B) to see if they needed any extra people. Unfortunately, they weren't hiring, but I did find the cutest little figurines. They're vegetable animals and I totally want one. (These are from my phone, so please excuse the quality.)

Suuuuuuper cute carrot fish.

Most adorable carrot chipmunks. 

Radish/beet squirrel. So cute!

I can't find a link on Hallmark's website, but here's a list of them on a different website. If you scroll down past the ornaments, you'll see the figurines. Personally, I like the figurines better, just because it doesn't have to be Christmas to have them out.

I also found something that I would get for my Mom in a heartbeat, but I remember her telling me that students steal things off of her desk. I think this should be your new mantra, Mom.

Appropriately placed on Teacher display stand. 

Well, that's all from the desert. In another hour or so, H. and I will dig into that cheesecake, and it better be lacking any lemon flavor. No ifs ands or buts about it.

Mileage.

The apartment complex scheduled a once-a-year inspection of our apartment (checking the smoke detectors, seeing if we're breaking our lease, et cetera) to take place sometime between nine and five. After twiddling my thumbs trying to watch tv while the repair guy slowly looked around our electrical circuitry, attempted a conversation with me in Spanglish about the electrical system, then concluded that turning on the vacuum had flipped a breaker, I had no inclination to be present when the inspection people arrived. It would take some creativity to stay out of the apartment for an extended period of time.

At ten, I headed off to the postal office with the parcel for my grandparents in hand. Even though it was nearing lunchtime, I reasoned that there was no way it would take longer than last time when there was only one window open. As Murphy's Law would have it, there was one lane open, and it was a forty-something lady in training. The woman helping her along the way was a little younger and sounded very good at her job, but I felt bad for her. The new lady would pause at every single step, would ask what to do next before pushing any button, even though for most of these people it was the same steps over and over again. I swear, when I got up to the window the experienced woman perked up when she saw that this parcel was headed internationally. Now I've learned what paper to fill out before going through the line, so next time it goes smoother.

Back at the apartment I had lunch, then decided to head out to Goodwill. That might sound out of the ordinary, but I wouldn't mind having a little side table for under fifteen dollars (the cheapest at Target) that would reside next to the lovely chair and ottoman that we have. It would definitely make relaxing with a cup of tea much easier. Ideally, I'd like to find a wooden one, but I could also work with a metal one that resembles patio furniture, as long as it's on the small side. With about ten Goodwill stores in the area, I decided to visit them one by one until I found what I was looking for (did someone say week-long project?).

The store I went to today was a little disappointing. Very large store, not much stuff in it. There were some pieces of furniture in it, but they were mostly couches and chairs that looked quite sad and lonely. I spent all of ten minutes in there, then headed back to my car where I hatched my next plan. All roads lead to mountains (all north-south roads, that is) so why not go and visit these things that I've been painting. I was all gung-ho about my plan, and had such a thrill driving at fifty miles per hour out into the desert countryside, until I passed a sign that said "Only 4x4 Past This Point" or something like it. I can't remember, I was driving supa-fast. And then I noticed this was a no-passing zone, because it was a one-lane each way road. And then I noticed that around the final curve there was a twenty-degree incline that I was about to drive up. At this point, I was panicked that my car didn't have four-wheel drive, the road was still one lane, and even if I wanted to stop and turn around the car behind me would have something to say about it.

Thank goodness there was a touristy park-n-look scenic area not too far past the sign. I quickly pulled off into the gravel, checked for cars, then drove my little tush back down that mountain and never looked back. Actually, driving down was kinda fun, because I didn't have to use the gas at all. But then I got nervous again when I saw what gravity was doing to my car on an inclined plane, and pressed the brakes a little. All in all, I was thrilled to be driving back to civilization. Music blasting and everything.

This was taken at the first light I came to after surviving the wilderness - don't worry. There was a lot of construction, one never-ending lane of traffic, and I'm quick with my phone. Whopah!

It's difficult to tell, but there's a printed sign
underneath the turn lane sign. It says,
"Lost Black Calf." It reminded me of living
in an actual countryside.

I returned to my apartment to find that the inspectors had just stepped into one of my next-door neighbors' apartment. I decided to pick up bratwurst buns from the grocery store (remember how we bought the Costco sized box?), then whimsically decided to go shopping in Bed Bath & Beyond. I did have a gift card that the company sent me after the wedding burning a hole in my purse. After checking out every possible corner of the store, I decided to make my purchase and go. I'd tell you what it is, but it's a secret. Instead, I'll show you a picture of something I found in the store that tickled my brain.

It's a crackpot. It has a very thin edge on one
side for cracking eggs with. Brilliant name.

Last and least funny, I present you with a picture of the voluminous clouds traversing our sky today. It was so bright out when I took it that the original picture almost blacked out the non-sky portion entirely. I had to brighten up the landscape, and that revealed the wacky colors, but in the end I suppose it looks nice in an artistic way.

I love it when clouds look larger than life.

And that wraps up another lovely day. I'm really digging these late Ranger games. H. and I get to watch Wheel of Fortune before the game starts. We haven't done that since baseball season started back in April. I was a little rusty yesterday, then had a quick-hitting puzzle-solving streak today, then H. informed me that this was a re-run because he remembered the way the lady said the answer to the last puzzle (like a robot). Hopefully tomorrow won't be a rerun!

Tesoros Aquáticos.

That's Spanish for aquatic treasures. Which perfectly describes these rustic yet simple fish tacos.

I can only eat two, but I wish I could eat more. 

Here you can see the fish a little better. Mmm, mmm, fish.

 Delicious Fish Tacos with Cucumber-Dill Sauce

- frozen fish (we used flounder, but any fish you like will do)

- seasoning (salt, pepper, garlic powder, creole)

- olive oil

- cucumber

- sour cream

- dill

-ranch dressing

- lemon juice

- cheese

- salsa

- avocados (optional, use to make guacamole)

- uncooked flour tortillas

Thaw fish completely, then pat dry. Season fish on both sides, and place into a hot pan with olive oil. Cook fish on each side (~10 min). 

Remove outer skin from cucumber. Dice or finely chop the cucumber, then add a generous amount of sour cream, followed by a little ranch dressing, some dill, a little lemon juice, and a pinch of salt. Adjust ingredients until just right. Grate cheese into a separate, small bowl.

In a pan (with some cooking spray), cook flour tortillas until they are just golden. Transfer to a plate, and let cool for a minute before assembly.  When ready, place a fish filet on cooked tortilla, and add cheese, cucumber sauce, and salsa (or guac).  Enjoy!

This is easily one of H.'s favorite dishes that I've made on my own (without an actual family recipe). While they are simple to make, it doesn't hurt to have a helping hand with the cucumber-dill sauce. Or with the tortillas (H. is resident Head Tortilla Chef). The only other reason we don't make these more often is because it would be difficult to put them in H.'s lunch for work. I wouldn't want him having a soggy lunch. But a la carte, these are fabulous. Definitely cooked enough fish for lunch tomorrow, so all we have to do is fire up some tortillas and heat up the fish. 

Happy cooking adventures!

Italian Stallion.

The next time that I make these, I'll be utilizing the man sitting on the couch watching the game. The end product was delicious, savory, and I would make these again in a heartbeat, with one alteration. Oh, did I mention these were low-fat? Also, can I please, please, please have the longest title award?

Faux-Ricotta "Cheesy Sea Shells" Stuffed Pasta Shells with a Hearty Meat Sauce
Meat Sauce
- 1 lb. super lean ground beef
- 1 Tbsp. soy sauce
- 3 cans diced tomatoes, drained
- 1 onion, diced
- 3 garlic cloves, minced
- salt
- basil
- tomato paste (optional)

Stuffed Shells
- 1 box (12 oz.) jumbo pasta shells
- 1 container (24 oz.) fat-free cottage cheese, drained if necessary*
- 1 1/2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese
- 2 garlic cloves, or 1 tsp garlic powder
- roughly 1/4 c. milk *

Make sauce. Place tomatoes in food processor and pulse until smooth. Heat oil in large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add onion and cook until softened. Stir in ground beef, and work soy sauce into beef. Add tomato paste, garlic, and cook until fragrant (1 min). Stir in processed tomatoes and salt, simmer until slightly thickened (~20 min). 

Cook shells. Meanwhile, in a large pot, boil 4 quarts of water. Add 1 Tbsp. salt and pasta shells, cook until al dente (12-15 min). Drain shells, transfer to a baking sheet, making sure to separate shells from one another gently.

Make Filling. Place cottage cheese, mozzarella, garlic (or garlic powder), and milk into food processor. Blend until relatively smooth, then transfer to a large plastic bag. Cut one corner of bag, then fill each usable** shell with cheese mixture****. 

Assemble. Spread a thin layer of meat sauce on bottom of baking dish. Arranged filled shells (seam side up) over sauce. Spread any remaining sauce over shells***, along with any remaining mozzarella that you didn't fancy munching on. Cover with foil, bake until bubbling around edges (~18 min). Let cool, then serve.

* I drained my cottage cheese thoroughly. But when I started to blend it with the mozzarella cheese, the lack of liquid made it difficult to get anything blended. First, I added sour cream, but then I realized it would need a little bit of milk to really get anything done in that blender. Moral of the story, if your cottage cheese is swimming in water, drain it. If not, don't worry about it.

** These shells need to be drained and separated as soon as humanly possible. As I separated the shells and placed them on the baking sheet, I ran them through a little of lukewarm water. This made sure that the shell's outer layer didn't stick to the inner layer, which helped with I was filling them. Even though I was very careful with the shells, there were a couple that just ripped, and were essentially unusable. It's like dying eggs at Easter - somebody's gonna drop an egg, so accept it and keep on trucking.

*** I am a skeptic and only used two cans of diced tomatoes instead of the recommended three. At the end, I only had enough meat sauce to cover the bottoms of the two dishes I used to bake the filled shells. Next time, I'm definitely using three cans. Oh, and if you decide not to drain them, just be forewarned that you will have water bubbling up in the finished product. Tomatoes are like a Sham-Wow.

**** I had a bunch of cheese mixture left over. Probably enough for five or six shells (which, coincidentally, is the number of shells that didn't make the cut). I have no idea what you should do with the leftover cheese stuff.

All in all, really freaking good. The only part where I got tripped up was during the filling process, because you need to have a steady and gentle hand. Next time, I'm splitting the cheese mixture between two bags, and getting H. to help me out.

Goodnight, people!

Pork is Out.

Uneventful day all around. The workers never came back to check on their work, so there's still a wooden slat leaning up against the wall outside our front door (the slat covers up the entry way to the attic). No more tar smell, at least.

Today I decided to depress myself further and look for a job. While looking for a job wasn't exactly depressing, learning what it would take to be a certified medical technologist was. A medical technologist takes samples from patients and, after performing some experiments, determines the biological origin of their symptoms. Specifically, whether bacteria, parasites, or viruses played a part in their illness, and then what that microorganism is.

The requirements for certification include two options: (a) be a graduate of an accredited medical technology program with a bachelor’s degree in medical technology, or (b) be a graduate of an accredited college or university with a bachelor’s degree, with a major in one of the biological or chemical sciences, AND either

(i) completed an accredited academic program in medical technology following the earning of the bachelor’s degree referenced in “B” above, or (ii) completed at least one year of approved laboratory experience within the last five years.

In short, I need one year of experience in a clinical setting to even be considered for certification. Research at a university counts, as long as I'm working with tissues and medicine and whatnot. I'd like to point out that it's almost impossible to get clinical lab setting experience without certification, so have no idea why they even included that in there as a possible experience option. Anyways, if I can get one year of experience, I can get a real job. Until then, I might be stuck with a receptionist job. Even lab tech assistants need certification and six months experience in a hospital setting, and that is just straight up messed up.

Tonight's dinner was pork chops - they were on sale at the grocery store, and I figured why not? We've had sweet and sour pork ribs, so maybe I can cook up a masterpiece with pork chops. Turns out neither H. nor I really care for pork chops. I mean, we don't absolutely hate them, they're just not our favorite dishes in the world. Now I've got to figure out a way to use the rest of the "extreme value pack" of five or so leftover pork chops that's sitting in our freezer. I'm thinking something with a very strong sauce. Maybe Italian pork chops with a tomato-herb sauce? At least the freezer will give me a while to think on it.

Tomorrow I'm applying to a couple of retail jobs at the mall (or at least asking if they're hiring). H. is very dissatisfied with his job responsibilities or lack thereof, and is applying within the company to a position that will actually use his degree. He talked it over with his boss, and while his boss doesn't want to lose one of his hard working and bright employees, he understands the complacency he feels with his job. What that means for me is while H. is applying to other jobs, I'll be taking a temporary job anywhere. Preferably sales, since I've got experience with that, but you never know.

That also means that while I'm still hopeful for a lab position if anyone ever gets around to reading my resume, I've stopped applying to lab positions here. It's mostly due to the fact that I'm not sure when (if) we'll relocate, and also that I don't want to have that conversation with my new boss. You can imagine what that would be like. So! Taking a job where I can quit within two weeks without any questions or sheepishly asking for a reference would fit the bill quite nicely. I thought working at the mall might be nice, and ForeverXXI does have a job opening, and I hear they pay better than Kohl's. Although, the online listing for a sales associate did say I needed a passion for fashion (yikes!). Again, a good scouting mission at the mall will tell me what I need.

In lieu of a picture, I leave you with this mental image. The Cowboys play their first preseason game against the Broncos tomorrow. Can you even imagine how excited H. is? All I can say is that I really hope we can watch the game tomorrow.

Tuesday.

8:30 AM - Workout while watching Beyond Scared Straight. Who doesn't love prick teenagers being scared into reality by big, lethal inmates?

9:45 AM - Take a nice shower while listening to some sports radio.

10:00 AM - Finished shower, thinking about what to have for lunch. Absolutely starving at this point.

10:15 AM - Whilst deciding what to have for lunch, heard some odd noises on the rooftop of our apartment. Perhaps they're fixing the antenna or the shingles or something. Not entirely out of the ordinary.

10:20 AM - Air conditioning starts. Immediately attacked by the smell of tar, which smells like a gas leak, which leads me to look up the adverse effects of inhaling tar fumes. Which leads me to finding the nearest shirt and covering my face. Overcome with nausea, wondering how in the world my AC has tar in it.

10:25 AM - Text H. and let him know that I can't be in the apartment any longer, and mention I'm eating lunch out. H. says go for it, and I'm out the door before you can say "stupid construction".

10:45 AM - Wendy's BLT Cobb Salad for lunch with a small order of fries. I waited twenty minutes in the K-Mart parking lot before (a) deciding I was hungry, then (b) deciding to be good and have a salad.

11:30 AM - After a luxurious lunch in the car in the boiling heat in a library parking lot (I have no idea why I didn't go inside), the decision is made to buy candles and air freshener.

11:45 AM - Purchase 50 tealights and the biggest bottle of Febreeze available at the local Walmart.

12:00 PM - Cautiously open door to the apartment. Cue onslaught of tar fumes rushing past my body into the midday heat. Taking a huge breath, run around the apartment spraying Febreeze anywhere and everywhere. Light half of the tealights in various places, using dishes and baking sheets to ensure wax doesn't accidentally spill everywhere.

12:15 PM - The air is now moderately breathable.

12:16 to 3:00 PM - Repeat ridiculous spraying ritual every single time the air conditioner turns on. Specifically spray all air vents every single time the smell of tar begins to waft up my nose. Move candles around the apartment to purify the air.

3:01 PM - Realize we need something for dinner and must go to grocery store. What a fabulous excuse to be out of the apartment.

3:30 PM - Return to apartment, which now smells like Febreeze and tar. Drop off the refrigerables (items to be refrigerated), head to the apartment complex front office.

3:31 PM - Have this lovely conversation with the lady at the front desk.

"Is there roof construction going on today?"
"Yeah. Didn't you get the letter?"
"Uh, no. Definitely didn't get anything saying there would be construction."
"Oh, well that's weird because we definitely sent them out ... ... ... "
"Well my apartment smells like tar."
"We've had a couple people complain, but they all said the smell went away in a few short hours."
I tell her my issues with the smell.
"Hmm. Let me go talk to (whatever the name of the other girl is)."
Waiting for fifteen minutes.
"Yeah, (whoever) says that the smell should go away in a couple of hours. When did they stop by today?"
"Ten o'clock. And it keeps happening every time the AC turns on."
"Hmm. Well that's unusual."
"Yeah, it sucks being in that apartment breathing tar fumes."
"Well, the guys have been patching the roofs because we've had leaking from the monsoon."

Okay, wait a minute, hold the phone. Last time I checked, we've had a total - not in the last week, but since the monsoon started back in July TOTAL - of two and a half inches of rain. 2.5". How in the world do you have significant roof leakage to warrant patching the roofs? Outrageous. The lady said that these apartments are ten years old (lemme tell you, they don't look older than three), so maybe they built them in a haste ten years ago. Whatever. Back to the story.

"So, the construction guys are coming back tomorrow to check on how the patching dried. If you have any other problems, just call us."

Yeah, I'll probably call you guys. Because every other time I've called the front office I've gotten the answering machine. You guys are super professional at what you do, lemme tell you.

"I will. Bye."

By the time H. arrived home from work, I was used to whatever fumes were left in the apartment. By 'used to', I mean I had a throbbing headache but could no longer smell the fumes unless I stood underneath the air conditioner. H. said he definitely smelled it, but he was getting used to it the longer he was in the apartment. Thank goodness H. agreed to frozen pizza for dinner; I had no energy left to cook more than that.

By now, the tealights have all run out of fuel, the Febreeze is 2/3 full, and the only time I can smell tar is when I walk into the bedroom as the AC runs. Apparently that's where the cold air goes first in our space. H. said that if something similar happens tomorrow, he wants to come with me down to the front office. He would like to tell them that he doesn't like being gassed in his own apartment. I very much agree.

Tomorrow is another day, and if I have to deal with fumes again, I'm going to the three-dollar theater for a couple of hours (there is no one-dollar theater). Or I could head up to a different mall, about twenty minutes away, and browse around a store called H&M. I have no idea what's in there, but I hear they have good prices. That way I can't be a theater creeper.

Chicken Party!

I'm jumping the gun here a wee bit, but I wanted to get this recipe up for tonight's chicken dinner. It smells good already, and if everything keeps chugging along, it'll turn out nicely.

Edit: Here's the picture of our wonderful meal tonight.

Fiesta Chicken and Rice
- 4 chicken breasts  (we have 3 on hand)
- olive oil
- 1 cup rice
- 1 onion, roughly chopped
- 4 garlic cloves, minced
- 1 tsp. oregano
- 1 tsp. chili powder
- 1/8 tsp. cayenne pepper (super spicy, use with caution)
- 1/2 can diced tomatoes (or other tomato equivalent)
- 1 3/4 c. chicken broth
- 1 cup shredded cheese
- 4 green onion stems, sliced thin


Season chicken with salt and pepper, place in medium-high heat pan with olive oil. Cook until golden brown on one side* (4 min). Place chicken on plate, remove any large bits of fat from pan.


Add onion, rice, and 1/2 tsp. salt to skillet. Cook until rice is lightly toasted and onions start to soften (3 min). Reduce heat if rice toasts too quickly.


Add garlic, oregano, chili powder, and cayenne pepper. Cook until fragrant (15 sec). Add tomatoes and chicken broth, and scrape the bottom of the pan for clingons. Place chickens back in pan, nestled brown side up, and transfer any juices left on the plate to the pan. Cover, reduce heat, and cook until chicken is cooked through (12 min). 


Remove chicken from pan and place on a cutting board, loosely tent with foil. Stir rice, and add extra water if needed**. Cover, cook on low heat until rice is tender and liquid is absorbed (12 min). Slice chicken breasts into 1" pieces. 


Remove skillet from heat. Arrange chicken breast pieces on top of rice, and sprinkle cheese and green onions on top. Cover and let stand until cheese melts (5 min). Serve with margaritas and a slice of satisfaction.


* Original recipe says brown on one side. I did that, then turned them over and cooked the raw side for a few short minutes. I didn't like the idea of raw chicken going into rice and onions.

** Original recipe only uses 1 1/4 c. chicken broth, but once I took the chickens out to cut them, I noticed that the rice in the pan had already sucked up all of the available liquid. I added more water, but I would have liked to add chicken broth. Thus, I upped the amount of broth you need to 1 3/4 c. in the ingredients list, which is about how much I ended up using.

There were a couple of ingredients in here that we didn't end up using. One was green peppers - I like peppers, but H. doesn't, so we skipped those. I would probably get one of those cool green/yellow/red pepper combos they sell in grocery stores just to add some neat colors to the rice. The second ingredient was beans - H. wanted refried beans, and mixing that into the rice would just yield pasty rice. So we're having those on the side.

And that's all for tonight. Enjoy!

Unsatisfied.

This morning's pigs in a blanket were a bust. The dough was rock solid and tasted like flour. The bratwursts were cooked fine, so H. and I just picked them out of their caverns and ate them. I made these last night, and I did add a little flour to the recipe because there was no way the dough was ready to be rolled out. It was much too sticky, and after adding just enough flour to work the dough, I thought we might have a winner. Alas, from now on we will stick to dough from a can for our pigs in a blanket endeavors.

I'm trying to pick out a recipe from the new site I found that uses ingredients that we already have. These meals have to be cost effective and tasty. In hopes of one day finishing off that stash of rice we have, I shall attempt to make Fiesta Chicken and Rice for dinner tonight.

That picture looks a little daunting, but then again I'm not cooking for a food magazine. Flavor is the name, and cooking is the game.

Once H. finishes multiplying four-by-four matrices on our whiteboards like a mathematician gone wild, we're eating lunch and heading out to watch Captain America in 3D. That should count as being patriotic.

A Taste of Greatness.

Edit: For some reason, there's a whole bunch of space between the lines that are italicized. I'm trying to fix it, so bear with me. Don't elephant with me, though.

So much time, so little to post. Wait, scratch that, reverse it.

I painted something for my grandparents that I rather like, although there are elements of it that I wish had turned out better. Maybe if I let it sit around a while longer it will magically right itself. It's probably not that responsible, though. Anyways, here's a painting of our mountains and a pretty accurate color of the sky.

It's 11"x14", so midway between small and decently sized. 

I'm particularly proud of the detail on the mountains. /paintbrush flex

It is much more difficult to sign something while using a brush.

H. thinks that one day, many years from now, my great-grandchildren will take a piece of my artwork to Antiques Roadshow to have it appraised. The ones signed Anna could be worth $300k, while the ones signed Chuck could be worth $50k, because there will be an abundance of the latter. Or the other way around. As for me, I'm fine with anything above fi-dolla (that canvas was $1, which means 400% profit what what?)

As I'm writing this, I'm consuming the end-all be-all in fruit delicacies. Applesauce, people. Homemade gold. I kind of want to get some more of these apples H. doesn't like just to make more of this super-duper sauce.

These are 250 ml jars (approximately 8.45 oz.) filled with dreams.

Here's the recipe I followed, which is super calculated and exact in all things. Also, a good recipe deserves a good name.

Rooty Tooty Fresh 'n Fruity Applesauce
- 5-6 apples 
- a couple squirts of lemon juice
- a smidge of sugar (no more than a 1/4 c.)
- a pinch of cinnamon

Peel apples, core, and cut into manageable slices. Put slices into a mixing bowl, and sprinkle lemon juice, cinnamon, and sugar onto apples. Mix together. Place contents in a pot, cover, and cook on low heat for 1 hour. When slices are easily destructible, either mash or blend, then store. 

Lemon juice cuts down on the richness of the applesauce, and also prevents the apple mush from getting very brown. I added very little sugar to the mix, and it turned out wonderful. It was probably closer to an 1/8 c., but depending on your apples you might need to add more. A teensy bit of cinnamon since H. is very sensitive about these things, and you're off! The interwebs said to use a potato masher to grind up the apples, but I'm much more advanced (lazy) so I used our Ninja blender. Pulsed those apples a couple of times, and BAM. Perfect applesauce. I did this while they were still piping hot, which I might not do next time. I don't want to stress out our Ninja with scalding hot apples.

Last night I made BLT Pasta. The recipe called for a pound of pasta, but there was no way the ratio of bacon, spinach and arugula, and onions to pasta was going to be any good. So I only used 3/4 lb., and went with the rest of the recipe.

Bacon for dinner? Yes, please.

BLT Pasta
- 3/4 lb. fun-shaped pasta
- 12 slices bacon, chopped
- 1 decent sized onion, diced
- 1 clove of garlic, minced
- 10 oz. spinach / arugula
- 1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
- grated Parmesan cheese, for topping
- croutons (optional)

Boil water for pasta, and heat pan for bacon. Start bacon once the pan is hot enough, and remove to a plate with a paper towel. Leave bacon fat in after each batch. Once water is boiling, add pasta. 

While bacon and pasta cook, dice the onion, halve the cherry tomatoes, and roughly cut the spinach/arugula into quarters. Once all of the bacon is cooked, remove some fat* and cook the onions and garlic in the remaining bacon fat. Chop the bacon into quarters. After onion has softened, lightly wilt the greens. Salt and pepper to taste.

Strain pasta, add a little butter, salt, garlic powder for taste. 

In a large bowl, mix everything together (including the tomatoes), and serve with Parmesan and croutons on top. 

* I used turkey bacon instead of the real deal. The brand that I bought gave off little excess fat, so I only took out a small amount before adding in the onions. The onions soak up all of that exquisite bacon flavor, and are the second best part of the meal (next to the actual bacon).

I didn't use the croutons - I forgot, and after thinking about it I don't think this meal needs any extra flavor or carbs. Also, our garlic was a little green on the inside, and didn't quite cook all the way through, so there were a few spicy moments during my meal. H. didn't notice at all, which goes to show he'll eat anything with bacon in it. Actually, he probably did notice and thought I put creole seasoning in it.

I will say that since there isn't any sauce element in this dish, I thought that it would be a little on the dry side. I was going to add a little more olive oil to the finished product, but thought better of it, and I didn't notice once I got started eating. If you want a more saucy pasta, I would recommend adding a bit of the starchy pasta water to the onion-spinach-garlic mix. But that's just a theory.

And while I'm modifying this recipe to pieces, I might as well add that next time I'm cooking the pasta in chicken broth. You know I'm flava flava-licious.

So there you have it. Step One in my 14-Day New Recipe Program. I found a website that has a slew of recipes that I'm dying to try (no really, I'm starving). The only catch is that the website has a membership service, and for now I'm on the 14-day free trial. I've cancelled the automatic steal-your-money membership, and have started saving some of the more interesting recipes. Tomorrow morning, we are having pigs in a blanket.

Now tell me that doesn't look divine.

H. requested that instead of hot dogs, we use bratwursts. That led to the idea of bratwursts for dinner tonight. I don't think I could have said yes fast enough.

Until the next post, I'm Chuck, signing off. Be kind to one another and eat your vegetables.

This and That.

This is going to be a super girly thing to say, but I wanted to show you guys what I'm sporting today.

Striped shirt and dark blue shorts.

Super cool detail on the arms.

I bet you're wondering why I'm turning this into a fashion blog. Really, I just wanted to brag about the fact that I bought that shirt and the shorts for a dollar twenty. Kohls was handing out these $10 mailers, and then I had a 15% off coupon, so I got this outfit for the price of a Doublestack. Hot diggity!

I feel like I was out of the apartment all day today. I went from the post office to Costco to Food-Walmart, back to the apartment, to the Non-Food-Walmart, to Michael's, then back to the apartment. The stop at the regular Walmart was for mason jars - I wanted to buy just one, but had to buy a pack of four, the lowest denomination (look look! math words!).

I'm going to put applesauce in that mason jar - homemade applesauce, that is. A week ago I bought some apples in one of those three pound bags from the grocery store, and put those suckers in H.'s lunch. After getting an apple back at the end of the day two days in a row, I asked him what was up. Turns out the apple peel had a funny taste, which is a great shame considering the flesh is actually pretty tasty. After considering apple pie, apple strudel, and appletini's, H. and I settled on applesauce. Makes for a great snack, and it replaces oil in recipes. Win-win all around. As we speak, there is a pot on the stove with a bunch of peeled, cored, and sliced apples. With a pinch of lemon juice and cinnamon. And a smidge of sugar - these guys are already pretty sweet, but the sugar helps reduce them and whatnot.

I might have eaten a few slices before they were put to their steamy death.

All that's left is to wait until they're super soft and throw them in a blender for a minute. And then figure out how much applesauce we'll have in the end. I'm pretty darn excited.

Tonight we're having tilapia for dinner. We're also going to work on that twenty pound bag of rice. Have a nice night, folks!

Mystery Box.

Yesterday, H. and I received a mysterious package from the front office. It was mysterious for all of two seconds, since H. read the list of what was inside it before we were back at the apartment. The package was from my grandparents who couldn't make it to the wedding, and I was beyond excited thinking about what was inside the box (I kept saying, "Don't tell me what's in it!").  H. can vouch for my childlike exuberance when it came to opening that box. Here's a look at what was inside.

An incredible carved plaque and two beautiful afghans.  

My grandfather is a carpenter, and a master at that. Oma said he's taken
over the garage and turned it into a workshop. That makes me smile.

I love that it's three dimensional, and that he put so much
detail into his work. I can't get enough of the smell of it.
It reminds me of sitting in his workshop when I was younger.

On the back of the wooden plaque it reads: Any beauty that our eye or our senses may delight in is only a reflection of Our Creator, of whom we recognize to be the origin of all love and beauty. He grants us the gift of freedom to decide whether we want to serve Him (love of neighbour), or choose selfishness (ourselves). The outcome of this, our decision, will determine our place in the life to come. 

Gorgeous afghan that my grandmother made. It looks so warm and cozy!
This is definitely what I'm wrapping myself up in for a cup of chai tea. 

I can't get over all of the time and effort that
went into making these. I told H. that we're
never eating stuff around them ever, ever, ever.

It's difficult to show the absolutely vibrant colors of thread in these blankets. And they're super soft. I am going to be super duper excited about these for a long time to come, most definitely. Today I scouted out some nice stationary, and tomorrow I intend to write a long thank you letter with lots of details of our new life. 

David's Bridal gave me an offer for a free Shutterfly photo book. It took me a while to get the photos and pages the way that I wanted, but I finally sent off that book to Oma and Opa. It should be arriving at the end of this week / early next week, and I can't wait to send this letter along behind it. They really do warm my heart.

Well, H. says that we're getting up nice and early tomorrow morning, so I better wind this down. I'll leave you all with this thought.

All the wealth in the world cannot be compared with the happiness of living together happily united. -- Blessed Margaret d'Youville

Callback or fallback.

I got my first callback today. It came right after I received a rejection letter from one of the positions I was excited about. I applied to four different positions within this callback company, all of which involve working in a lab setting. So when she asked me what I wanted to do with my degree I told her about my lab aspirations. Turns out she was calling to ask if I wanted to take people's vitals, then their blood, then send them off to a lab out of state. I was a little apprehensive about taking the job right away, so she gave me her phone number and told me to call back in a couple of days after I'd thought it over.

I never wanted to be a phlebotomist. I faint after people take my blood (without even watching the process). I faint when I see other people giving blood. I get queasy just thinking about taking someone else's blood. I'm sure they offer you training, but having never done it before and considering the last couple statements, I doubt that would go over well. "Hi there, I'm going to take your blood now ... (falls over)."

I was so worried that H. wouldn't understand why I couldn't really take this job. Don't get me wrong, I really want to have a job. This whole housewife thing is getting kinda monotonous (read: I'm on laundry strike). However, I don't want to have a job where I'd spend most of the time unconscious on the floor. Or in a recovery bay somewhere. That would be so humiliating, considering most of the people I imagine applying for this job have been trained to take blood.

In short, I will most likely call the lady and decline the offer, as much as it pains me to do so. At least now I know that there are actual positions to be had here. For a while there it seemed like a myth that there were any open job positions at all.

Coming up in a little bit is a new post. I wanted to break them up because otherwise, this would be an insanely long post. See ya soon!