grendelkhan (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} grendelkhan) wrote,@ 2007-04-02 01:46:00 |
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| Entry tags: | recipe |
wrestlemania. also, home fries, and worries.
I learned to make home fries today. I thought I was doing it wrong, but they came out quite well.
Home FriesI thought I had to cook the potatoes separately, but no, they cooked right there, and the results were excellent--even the shrooms.Dice onions, shrooms and potatoes, and put into a pan with oil. Once it's sizzling, pour wine over the ingredients. Stir with spatula and cook until the potatoes are edible.
- 2 medium potatoes
- 1 red onion
- 1/2 pound portabella (or similar) mushrooms
- Splash of red wine
- Spot of grease
Today's banner event was Wrestlemania 23 over at Ben's. We got there early to meet up with the Cat, who was going to do my taxes. He brought some cookies from Katie (who couldn't make it, due to being swamped with work) as a thank-you for me telling one of her friends that the reason she couldn't see her website was because she had to create a
public_html directory under her home directory. The Cat did my taxes, which ran into the beginning of the show, because, well, they're more complicated this year. Because I got a refund last year, I changed my withholding, and now I owe the government a fat wad of cash money, which I hadn't expected. I don't have much to complain about--I'm essentially complaining that I did well this year, too well to score any of those nice deductions for my tuition payments--but it's yet another in a series of... well, it's not a disaster, but it's unexpected and it's troubling. File it alongside my am-I-or-am-I-not transition to part-timer status at work due to a lack of clients.There weren't that many people around; I shot the breeze with the Cat when not glancing at the wrestling every so often. It's just not compelling without Rey Mysterio, or some other high flyer. Rob Van Dam was there, but it just wasn't the same. Yes, it's like the circus--and I go to see the acrobats, not the strongmen. Still, there was plenty of amusement to be had, enhanced by the warm glow of light beer. (Since when does Bud Light come in a blue plastic bottle? Man, I'm old.)
Carin got tipsy and cuddled up to Hillary, who doesn't have a mullet. (I thought she did, but it was just tucked behind her ears.) I certainly didn't mind, but at least I was more polite about it than another of Ben's guests, who kept trying to direct them. Aside from thinking (about Hillary), "I like the way she's shaped; it reminds me of the way Carin is shaped", I hazily understood that it was, of course, a performance, but was tugged into enjoying it by my gonads. So, a reminder: I am not better than this, I am not above this, and I enjoy watching girls shamelessly flirt (honest, that's all it was) for the amusement of a male crowd. Sure, I'm polite about it, but since when has that absolved anyone?
I make it sound doomy. Honestly, I had a really good time. Good show, good friends, good times. Also, it's Ben's birthday next weekend, so I have that to look forward to as well. Maybe I'll bake the brownies this time. (Carin made her famous chocolate chip with chocolate icing with yet more chocolate chips in said icing brownies, which went over quite well.) I'll have to think of something to get Ben, too. Hrrm.
I should point out that I missed Rick-day today. He's not going to be around on Monday, either, due to going home for seder. Damn choices--I have such an empty social calendar, but I still manage to have collisions.
On the way back, I vented to Carin about... well, about a lot of things. I vented about my uncertainty in employment, about feeling ambivalent about my participation in the evening's "women! perform for us!" show, about how I'm going to be sending out a lot of money in the next week to pay for school and taxes, and about how I'm even feeling ambivalent about school--it's expensive, I haven't been really captivated or inspired by any of my classes, and it's not going to nudge up my earning potential. On the second item, Carin explained that she wasn't bothered, and that while there is a creepiness threshold, she never felt that she wasn't in control of what was going on, and thus the creepiness threshold stayed safely unreached. As for the rest, well, everything seems worse in the middle of the night. It was sweet of her to listen.
No comments; I was busy being sociable. If anyone reading really misses me commenting on something instead of recounting my day, I wrote a three-part (1 2 3) series about The Sandman when I first read Season of Mists.
