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Chicken pot pie is still chicken pot pie.

So close! I WAS SO CLOSE. I was cooking intensely, poaching my chicken and reserving the stock and dicing all those carrots and potatoes and melting the butter and making a roux and thickening and stirring... it was gonna be my first ever TOTALLY HOMEMADE OMG chicken pot pie.

Then I got lazy and used two boxes of Stove Top Stuffing (turkey flavor cuz that's what Giant Tiger had on sale!) as the top crust.

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It almost bubbled over entirely. The dish was way too full. IT IS DELICIOUS, OMG. And incredibly filling. But despite my hour-or-more of concentrated kitchen effort, I rendered the dish trashy and questionable by my choice of topping. Oh well. I still wanna share.

Recipe under cut, to save yer eyeballsCollapse )


Or not. I don't think I have one.

But I'm going to Trois-Rivières on Wednesday! For CAINE! Woot Camarilla convention! I have pretty clothes to wear and Andrew and I will be sharing a room and the good times shall roll.

I went and picked up Pokemon HeartGold, so I'd have something to play on the tr... okay I picked it up because I'd have picked it up ANYWAY, on release day, because POKEMON IS AWESOME. It is. I SHALL CATCH most of them probably if I have the time er um...

So yes! Travelling and pokeymans. And hopefully my recently-waxed right eyebrow will heal up properly by the time I get there. Waxing. It's hazardous, apparently.


Called in sick to work today. Haven't had cramps quite like this in a few months... I think staying at home in bed and waiting for the ibuprofen to kick in seems like a reasonable course of action.

My body needs rest. My mind needs rest. I think I'll go do that.

Thinky thoughts

"That’s why I say I have no problem with people dieting for health reasons (ie stepping up the veggies, eating more nutritious food, etc) but have a problem with people dieting for weight loss."

Woah. Dude. That just came up along side me and bonked me in the head. The words "diet" and "dieting" are superduperOMFG loaded. They're powerful! They're bad! They're good! They're necessary! They're... simply a term that refers to an ordered method of eating. If you let it be.

Dieting. D-i-e-t-i-n-g. By planning the meals that I choose to eat, and taking in mind both my body's needs for fuel and my mind's needs for satisfaction and my large intestine's needs for a little peace and happiness I'm technically doing this... d-word thing.

Although I can't really call it that because dieting has such baggage, so I call it "mindful eating" or "HAES" or something of the sort. Huh.

It's a satisfying sort of tired

Oof. It's Thursday already, and I'll be on the plane home in a few more hours. Wah, I don't want to go home. I don't want to go home! It's not just that Florida is lovely, and that it's fun to be out of town, and that there are still tons of places that I didn't see. It's that it's so wonderful to be here with Jeff and Vrae and Sarah. We just have so much FUN together. Horrible jokes, lots of foolishness back and forth... it's going to hurt to have to return to these folks being text on a screen. I want this dynamic to last forever.

We'll do it again sometime, right?

...vacation pictures/doodles coming soon! :D

We have a pool! A POOL!

I'm totally lovin' Orlando. And Jeff's place. Jeff's got a nice place. With a pool! A big pool! :D ... it's like, the pool for the fancy building complex he's in. It's got fountain-thingies!

...as a result, I'm going to need to buy a lot more waterproof sunscreen. With the highest possible SPF. I'm a little burnt. Okay, a lot burnt. But we're ALL that way, me and Vrae and Sarah... so y'know, we can all buy nice soothing lotions and go "ow ow ow" together.

I need like, a shoe-shelf

It's bizzare, when I sit back and reflect upon it. I've always, always considered myself an unfeminine tomboy, a total loss when it comes to all matters feminine. It's been a core part of my identity, damn it. But that's an identity that I've carved out for myself since puberty hit. Whatever it is that I've carved, it's awkward and ill-fitting now. I'm not the same person that I was at 13. (Heck, I'd probably be extremely irritated with my 13-year old self, if faced with her today. 13 year olds are... trying.) I'm 26 now, twice that age, and I've changed.

I like clothes. Boy, howdy, do I like clothes. I'm equally likely to drop too much money on new shoes or shirts as I am to buy video games or computer parts. Hell, I like shoes, all of a sudden. I used to loudly proclaim that the idea of having a zillion pairs of shoes is stupid. Functionality before form! ...but if I can get lots of functional shoes that have nice form, well, I'm willing to change my position... I fuss with my hair. I'm FINALLY figuring out make up. I'm... girly.

At least, I'm damned girly in comparison to all the guys I find myself hanging around with. Not a hard thing to accomplish when you've got, say, boobs, but.... dwuh, Gaz dropped a notch or two on my esteem-o-meter when he admitted that he'd just dress all in black every day of the week given the chance, as it was easier. And he's lucky I didn't bonk him with something when he started to crank about his mom's "bad" cooking. "Bad" being defined as "has different-colored vegetables in it". The boy seems to have some kind of fixation on everything having an unwavering consistancy, wether it's his wardrobe or his shephard's pie.

I suppose that's veering onto a slightly different topic, though. Ugh, boys. I'm tired of boys. Very, very tired. Where are all the men, exactly? Hiding in the couch cushions? Not that I'm in any hurry to go and pair myself off or anything, but hey. I'm a mature woman in the prime of my life, some things can't be entirely helped. Nothing wrong with a bit of healthy desire, wink-wink nudge-nudge eybrow-waggley-waggle.

Buuuuuuut for now, it does feel good to be free and unburdened by boy-type obligations. I'll be taking off for Florida in a few days, and for once it's just to hang out and have fun and meet up with friends. Only that. No stress, no strain. It feels fantastic, I'll have you know.

Lemme know if anyone wants a tacky souvenir! :D
If I were a NetHack monster, I would be a little dog. I'm a loyal and trusting companion, always ready to protect my friends. Even if they do feed me tripe, sometimes.
Which NetHack Monster Are You?

(Quiz from piloter, because he's just nifty like that.)

Insert Epic Music Here

This morning was a good morning to go play Lord of the Rings. Unfortunately, it only occured to me to do this after I successfully and safely made it to work. Which is a shame. I even had Becki with me! We could have sung the epic music together as we set off on our epic quest to get a taxi/get a bus/get a taxi/catch the bus oh wait that's not the right one/get a taxi/what do you MEAN they're taking the busses off the road!?

It was very epic, oh yes.

I swear, I called every cab company in town at some point this morning. Diamond Cab was constantly busy, and the one time I got through we were put on hold. All the others that I tried just weren't answering. I got lucky on a retry to Vet's, and we managed to have one come get us over by the Scotiabank. And we even got to work a bit EARLY! Woo us! OMFG! Sadly, I'm one of few people in the department that managed to brave the nasty wintery chaos. It's going to be a crazy day in here. I hope the snow lets up, and the busses get back on the roads. (I'd at least like to get home for cheap, if I can help it.)
I really hate getting a cold. I especially hate getting a cold when I'm scraping the edges of my bank account. I'm not sure I can rationalize going and buying another bottle of NyQuil (Green death flavor, we love yooooou~) when I still need to save a bit extra to help with the move.

Yeah, move. I'm moving from my current place, to Andrew Kelly's. I kinda like being all independant and on my own but I could honestly stand to save money. This would allow me to save a pretty good chunk of money. But egads, I hate moving... hatey hatey hate it. The old apartment is clean aside from some obessive wall scrubbing, but I still need to box up most of my stuff AND find a place to drop off all my oogly unwanted clothing AND make sure that Greg can still get the truck and haul me around or find out if I'm going to need to call some movers...

The whole business makes me kinda upset and queasy. I don't like it, and I'm anxious for it to be OVER.