A little election humor for you, courtesy of my father-in-law (red) and Middle Younger Brother (yellow):
I am getting very tired of leaving the house. On Monday Scott had an allergist appointment (went fine, thanks for asking), on Tuesday we went to vote, on Wednesday I went to the library, on Thursday I went grocery shopping. Tonight, I am seriously considering going to a write-in, which involves TALKING TO STRANGERS. Talking to strangers who are as crazy about novel-writing as I am is a little less scary than the regular kind of strangers, though.
Then this weekend Scott and I are having a private birthday celebration for me, because next weekend on my actual birthday we will be at my parents' house, celebrating Matthew's birthday and my birthday and Thanksgiving. (I believe I mentioned this last week. By the way, don't come steal all our stuff while we're gone. We may or may not have sentry robots who will kill you.)
(You are scoffing, but my husband really can program robots. I wouldn't be too sure that I'm bluffing if I were you.)
Speaking of NaNoWriMo, at this very moment (8:36 on Friday morning), my novel has 16,668 words, which is just a hair over 1/3 of the way. Considering this is Day 9 (not Day 10, 1/3 of the way through the month), that's pretty good. It's especially good considering that only a couple hundred of those words are from this morning's writing session. I'm hoping to inch up to 18,000 before I go to bed tonight.
There's still plenty of time to crash and burn, though. :)
On Wednesday, Scott worked a little later than usual, so I didn't rendezvous with him at the bus stop until about 6:30. Then I had to stop by the library to return a book that was due and pick up some reserves, so we didn't get back to our apartment until 7:00. Then I stared at the pound of ground beef thawing in the fridge and thought, "Meh."
Scott wasn't feeling well, and I wasn't feeling so great myself*, and it was late, so we mutually agreed that spaghetti and meatballs were just not a priority. We ate toast sitting around in the living room instead. It felt cozy and pleasant for some reason, perhaps because we were kind of playing hooky from adult responsibilities. (We should do that more often; we are very boring now that we are old and married.)
Scott fell asleep on the couch around 9:00, which made me kind of excited because he takes up a lot of room in the bed for being so skinny. I proceeded to wake up roughly every half hour all night because I kept trying to kick him in the shins and not being able to find him. (No, really. I'd wake up with my feet way over on his side of the bed, pawing forlornly at the empty sheets.)
On the other hand, Scott says he slept really well on the couch. I wonder why.
Scott thinks this is especially funny considering that I am forever fussing at him for having his feet on my side of the bed.
*We both felt better the next morning, so I think we just had a bad case of the Tireds.
Scott and I are doing the De Montfort Marian consecration again this year. It's a 33-day process; we started on November 5 so we could finish on December 7 so we could consecrate on December 8.
Last Saturday, November 3, I was thinking it was about time to start so we tried to calculate exactly what day we needed to start on and got into an argument (I was in a bad mood) and then got over the argument and got into a long and spirited discussion about math. Scott tried to explain to me the proper way for calculating start and end times of a 33-day process, but I got hopelessly confused, so he asked me to explain how I calculated it. (Since I had gotten the right answer before he tried to start explaining it to me.) So I told him the exact literal thing that goes on in my head when I am performing that particular mental calculation. The high point was when I said emphatically, "AND THEN THE NUMBERS CHANGE COLOR."
This is why I had trouble with those "show your work" math tests. I basically had to lie, because nobody actually wants to hear how a highly visual, somewhat synesthetic person does math. They want you to pretend that you got the answer the same way normal people do.
(The numbers aren't inherently colored, in case you're curious. Mathematical concepts have color, and the numbers change color depending on what I'm trying to do with them.)
I finally got around to making a pumpkin roll this week. It went well up until the point when I tried to roll it up, at which point it the cake broke into 3 pieces and frosting oozed everywhere and everything was all sticky. I'd show you pictures, but the pictures I took do not adequately convey the overwhelming sticky-ness.
After some frustration, I managed to mummify it in plastic wrap, shove it in a loaf pan (so it would hold some of its shape), and stick it in the freezer. That ended up being the right choice, because a day later I cut myself a slice that looked like this:
Not exactly spiral-shaped, but still pretty, right? When it's frozen, it's still soft enough to eat easily, but it doesn't ooze everywhere and it doesn't taste cloyingly sweet; the spices have a chance to come out. (Sometimes that "freezing things makes them less sweet" concept works to my advantage. Don't freeze pudding, though.)
(I used this recipe, except I used a 13x9 glass pan and no wax paper, I omitted the nuts, and I put 2 extra cups of powdered sugar in the filling because frosting is supposed to be FLUFFY, not runny.)
Stolen from my mother's Facebook page, but paraphrased:
My mother and my siblings were out running errands when they heard an ambulance pass by. Teresa said, "We need to pray!" Then she said, "Please help the people and the doctors help them if they broke their leg or their arm or their neck came off." Mom snickered a little bit. Teresa said, "Would that be hard to fix?"
Yes, dear, it would.
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