What’s with people who blog about their blog? If I surf to one more blog whose last four posts have been about how 6Apart are sellouts and are now charging money for Movable Type and how everyone should switch their blog over to WordPress or something… gah.
For God’s sake, people, blog about something! Blogging about your blog is counterproductive.
…of Diana’s cooking.
Tomorrow is the First Annual Building-Wide Potluck at the Sky Service Center in BG. It’s a fundraiser for the Relay For Life team—they’re participating in the upcoming relay at BG City Park to fight cancer. The organizers had wanted everybody to sign up for the potluck last week, so they’d know how many participants there would be, but only four people signed up by the deadline. So, to keep the thing alive (hey, I like food, even if I can’t eat half of it), I asked Aaron what I could make, and he came up with crock-pot chicken wings with low-carb BBQ sauce. Good idea! So, I signed up.
Of course, as soon as I signed up, the event organizers took the list around to all the departments and specifically asked if anyone was planning to bring food to the potluck. Turns out that half the building actually was planning to bring something, but didn’t want to commit to a specific dish a week in advance. Now there’s something like thirty different dishes in the potluck. Hey, that’s cool.
So, I just got done browning the wings, and they’re now sitting in my spiffy crock-pot with the removable crock, waiting to be smothered in Carb Well BBQ and put on to cook overnight. I really hope they turn out OK.
I always have a “thing” about my cooking not being very good, even though most of the time whatever I make turns out just fine. I had a couple mishaps in high school (how was I to know the pasta pizza would keep cooking if I turned off the heat and left it in the oven to keep warm?) and during the beginnings of my relationship with Aaron (mental note: corn starch only thickens if the heat is turned on; and upon turning the heat on, all the extra corn starch you put into the sauce in your confusion will create a fascinating tumor in your chicken paprikash). But, for the most part, I do OK when I cook. I leave most of the cooking to Aaron, though, and he seems to be fine with that. For now, anyway. 🙂
I will return tomorrow with a report on the success of my crock-pot chicken wings.
OK, guys—well, girls, probably. I don’t sew, but I’d like to. I have a project to complete. My plan is to attend Ohayocon in January all decked out in a homemade Totoro cosplay outfit.
This could take some explanation.
Totoro = wonderfully cute creation by Hayao Miyazaki, featured in his film Tonari no Totoro (My Neighbor Totoro). One of my favoritest movies. If you’ll recall, I did some sketches of some totoros back in November.
Cosplay = where otaku (psycho crazy anime / Japanese pop-culture fans) dress up as their favorite character at a convention.
Ohayocon = the only anime convention I’ve been to so far, located in Columbus. (It’s punny—”ohayo” means “good morning,” as well as the name of our state. Erika from the Bluecoats taught me that—it was my very first word in Japanese.) Aaron and I will be attending Ohayocon for the third year in a row next January.
So, I want to dress up like the crazy people. There’s a plushie out there of Mei, one of the characters from the movie, wearing Totoro pajamas. Instead of making a giant, ugly, deformed stuffed Totoro costume, I want to make some Totoro jammies. Several months ago, I drafted an initial plan of what my costume would be like, but I’ve revised my ideas since then. Instead of a more simple sweatsuit-type outfit, I’m looking at more of a one-piece footie pajama made out of plushie pile material, with a hood attached (or separate, if necessary).
I guess my big question is, does anyone know where to get a pattern for grown-up footie pajamas? I’ll need to modify it by a.) making it out of plush instead of fleece, and b.) adding a white panel to the front belly, besides making it big enough for my fat ass. I’m starting on this project way early, because I know I’m in over my head.
Oh, yeah, and I need to thrift myself a sewing machine. And learn how to use it. D’oh!
I really need to stop going to bed so late, being tired all day, and taking hour-long evening naps after work. It’s just not working out.
So, on Sunday I was in a parade in Birmingham, Michigan. Why was there a parade in the middle of May in Michigan, you ask? Well, let me tell you: it was the Basset Hound Parade. I shit you not. Upwards of 500 Basset Hounds brought up the rear of this relatively short parade (and those of us who marched in it were glad they were at the back of the lineup, so as to avoid any… surprizes).
Anyway, it was the first public performance of the full Lakeshoremen Drum & Bugle Corps, and we did fairly well. I did discover that I need to do some more aerobic cardiovascular-type exercise, because after the first run of our parade tune, marching uphill—hell, remembering how to march at all—I was pretty winded. But once I remembered how to breathe properly and pace myself, I did OK. I’m not really muscle-sore at all, except for my shin muscles. The… gastrocnemeus, is it? I seem to remember that from stretching and calisthenics in the BGSU Marching Band. Yeah, my shin muscles. The ones that crank your toes really high when you march in a parade. Those are still sore today. Other than that, my face got a little sun, despite my application of sunscreen, and my bare forearms got a little toasty.
But worst of all: the part in my hair got sunburnt. My scalp. A teeny little strip of my scalp.
Last night, I sat watching TV, and realized that it kind of hurt and was a little moist, like it wished it could blister, or like it had. I picked away the few gummy nasty parts I found, thought little else of it, and went to bed. This morning when I woke up, I had freaking little crystallized crusties growing in my part. It was like rock candy or some shit, kind of crusty but gooey and clingy to my strands of hair. Really, really gross. I managed to get it all out and look presentable, since I didn’t have enough time this morning to shower before work, but all day it was still sore. In a while, I’m going to go upstairs and take a cool shower and ever so gently massage my scalp. Maybe I’ll put some lotion or something on my scalp, although I’m not so sure how that’s going to work out…
I was sick of the cat bugging me a while ago, so I closed the door down here to the basement for a little peace and quiet. I’d better go open it now and make sure the cat isn’t causing havoc.
