Rottenator: I can't believe you're missing the first day of football because of a stupid convention.
Me: It's not a stupid convention; it's DragonCon; it's a chance for me to reconnect with my peeps and indulge my inner geek.
Rottenator: I can't believe (bro-in-law) is going; he's going to miss his first game of the season too. Against Clemson...pretty important.
Me: He's not missing it; he's ditching us for the night so he can watch his game.
Rottenator: Don't blame him; probably he wouldn't be going at all if (nephew) didn't want to go; otherwise, he'd let you two nerds (me, and sis) fend for yourselves.
So, I'm cheating because I actually made this Friday night, but I haven't had a chance to share it before now because the Rottenator and I enjoyed a mini weekend-vacay which was much needed. And even though it wasn't without its occasional spats, it was still enjoyable.
But moving on...behold: Chicken and Broccoli Alfredo (aka: 50 ways to clog your arteries):
Serves four (if you serve with a Caesar salad and garlic bread):
1 box fettuccine noodles, prepared according to directions
1/2 c butter (one stick)
8oz pkg cream cheese, room temp, cut into four pieces
1 c. heavy cream
1/2 c. grated Parmesan cheese
1 T. garlic powder (or to taste)
black pepper, to taste
2 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into bite sized pieces
2 c. fresh broccoli florets
2 T. mayonnaise (or enough to coat chicken pieces)
Italian seasoning blend (like Ms. Dash)
Directions:
Boil pasta according to box directions (12-14 min for fettuccine noodles); in the last four minutes, add broccoli florets, drain, and set aside.
Heat skillet to medium.
In a small bowl, combine chicken pieces, Italian seasoning, and mayo, stir to coat. Add mixture to skillet and saute until chicken is well cooked and browned through; 8-10 min (the mayo keeps it moist).
Place chicken to the side and in the same skillet, melt your stick of butter; once melted, add your cream cheese slowly, incorporating it into the melted butter. Just stir around until the cream cheese is melted; it won't be a smooth sauce until:
You add the cream; keep stirring until this mixture gets smooth; you may want to use a whisk; I didn't have to, the sauce was smooth enough for us, and then I added the grated Parmesan cheese and stirred around until the cheese got melty.
And then I added the chicken pieces and made sure that everything was all mixed together.
And then that big pot that I originally cooked the noodles and broccoli in: I put the noodles and broccoli back into it, and poured the chicken alfredo sauce all over it and mixed until it was a delicious pile of cheesy buttery goodness.
And indeed, I did serve it with garlic bread and a simple salad. And the heavens rejoiced. It was pretty damn awesome.
I am still partial to David Tennant, sorry. Sometimes I just can't let go of the past, but I'm okay with that...which is why I'm going to DragonCon in a t-shirt that celebrates a show that has been off the air for ten years.
So, finally got my lab results back from the gyno appointment I had last Monday. Good news: blood work came back fine; thyroid, cholesterol, blood sugar, blah blah blah, all awesomesauce. However, there seemed to be some concern with my pap smear:
The first words out of the nurse's mouth: "Now, I want you to put all thoughts of cancer out of your head."
Me: "Oh my fucking god, I have cancer."
She assured me that this was more common than one would think; in fact, she's already called three other patients and given them the same news. Which only means to me: "Great...we are the three out of five that have cervical cancer."
So, I'm due back in on the 16th for a colposcopy (not to be confused with colonoscopy but near about in the same nether regions), and I'm actually okay with this; much better mine frame than one would think because, hey, cancer: it's old news in my family. Meaning, it runs rampant throughout my relatives both here and in the beyond, so I feel more than prepared to handle any news they give me after the results. Even though it did concern me a little when I told the nurse I would "see if I could get off from work" on the 16th and she said: "Um...yeah...see what you can do about that."
Hmm...okay...well, done then.
Nothing else to report except that I started watching Homeland and it's SOOO good! I forgot how much I loved Damian Lewis. The show is brilliant; good summer watching since there's fuck all else on except for Top Chef Masters.
Meanwhile, I'm still planning on going to Dragoncon with my sis and fam, and she has ordered a dress from Lameasaurus on Etsy.
The dress she ordered was this one:
How absolutely adorable is this? Now to decide...to dress up or not...
Christmas was nice but over too soon. I did manage to make it to my sister's for a very brief visit but it was awesome waking up and seeing the kids all get their Christmas gifts.
Of which there were many; you can read about that here and see a god awful pic of me as well. I am beginning to think that my sister is passively-aggressively taking out latent hostility towards me which is left over from my supposed torturing of her in our earlier days. Either that, or she's just not a very good picture taker. But I love her anyway ;-)
Work is still exhausting. The Rottenator asked how I could be so exhausted from just sitting and talking on the phone all day and it's kinda hard to explain how mentally draining this job is to someone who doesn't understand it. Hell, I don't understand what I'm doing half of the time...which adds to the exhaustion. The best way to explain my job is to imagine sitting for 8 hours a day doing math problems. Word math problems. When you're not good at math.
Pretty much sums it up.
So, 2013 is upon us. And I know, everyone says, "Oh, I'm not going to make resolutions; it's so stupid and predictable and everyone makes resolutions, so I'm going to be different and contrary and not make any." Well, to those people, I say "fuck off, loser, stop trying to be contrary and different because now the fad is to NOT make resolutions so you're still a poser who's just trying to be different for the sake of being different."
So I'm making them. Because I'm edgy and cool. I saw this on Facebook the other day and because I was having a particularly bad one where I doubted everything and was hating my life and questioning my existence on this planet and my purpose in life, I reposted it.
And though it may be cheesy and sentimental, I still feel that way. It's the most difficult resolution of all, however, isn't it?
So, onto other ones, some more or less difficult, some more or less realistic and serious.
In no particular order:
I'm still kinda serious about the 365 milkshakes taste-test in 365 days. Perhaps it will lead to a book deal and not the life-threatening diabetes which is probably the more realistic outcome.
Lose (not loose, grammatical idiots) 40 lbs which is in direct conflict with the resolution above. Also, eat healthier so I feel better and not sickly and tired all the time.
Doctors appointments: mammogram, physical, gynecologist, dentist, top to bottom check out. Bloodwork included.
Celebrate my birthday at The Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios. I have not yet celebrated my fourth decade on earth as a monumental occasion, so I may as well make this the one.
Start writing again; even if that means nothing more than updating this blog more faithfully. It gives me a creative outlet and keeps my brain from stagnating.
So far, that's the list. I'm not going to go crazy with it, because then I'll look back on it as a insurmountable, unachievable list of "things I will never accomplish so fuck it all!" and not do a damn one of them, so let's keep it simple, stupid.
So, less of a list of resolutions and more of a touchstone of goals that I need to keep focused on. That works for me.
Mood Ring(tone) of the Day:
Sidebar: I know nothing of this band, or any of their other songs; I just know that Pandora played it on my station today and I must say: great job Pandora! Usually the songs they pick for me at random are totally like, WTF, seriously?!? How do you get Michael Buble from my stating that I like Oasis and Blur, but whatever...
This one was different, though. Very catchy. Foster the People. I'm afraid to research them for fear of ruining my enjoyment of this catchy little ditty.
Update: of course, I had to read up on the band. Good news: I'm still okay with them! Better news: I found a song I like that's only a couple of years old.
Kinda funny: they played this song on the Vampire Diaries. Which explains why I had visions of myself dancing around in my bra and underwear getting drunk with Damon Salvatore. And why I looked like Buffy Summers.
Ooooh, another update: I'm suddenly 16 years old just looking at these two together.
Another resolution: get really hot, be 20 years old, and have a devastatingly handsome and dangerous vampire boyfriend. Noted.
Remember not too long ago when I was complaining about NOT having a job and having no $?
Well, now I have a job and we have a bit of $ and now I'm complaining about my job, and my weight and my lack of motivation to clean my house so seriously, when am I going to stop whining and complaining and start counting my blessings?
Not today, kiddo, I can promise you that.
This job, OH-EMM-GEE, this job. Well, not this job as much as this fucking whoremouth passive aggressive bitch from hell instructor I have who doesn't know her ass from a hole in the wall and treats a group of fairly intelligent women like children is driving me batshit crazy.
Completely. She's awful, GOD awful, I couldn't stress that more. But I'll sure as hell try. Let me just say this much: Meryl is consistently making top scores in the class and SHE is going to her manager complaining about this woman. 'Nuff said.
The part I hate the most is that she makes me feel stupid and incompetent. Not only is she not teaching us the important tools we need to be successful at our jobs, she is teaching us INCORRECT information. She's twisted and dangerous and not in a fun, exciting way.
I shouldn't let it affect me like it does, but I can't help it. I don't like feeling stupid, or having people treat me condescendingly. I'm used to being the condescending, smart one. So I guess this is karmic payback.
Well, enough already. Of the karmic payback, that is. October 1st. 10/1/12 is freedom; we move onto the next phase and have a new instructor. And I can't fucking wait. Maybe I'll have the motivation to clean my house by then. Wouldn't it be nice if the Rottenator would do it for me?
Smiling is a sign of weakness
Doesn't that look like an enthused, strapping young man capable of washing a dish or changing a light bulb or, god forbid, scrubbing a toilet just ONCE?
I guess not. That's the face of a weak-stomached individual who got nauseated at the sight of the green goo coming out of a Cadbury's Screme Egg and couldn't finish it after one bite.
I ate two!
His loss, btw. These things are delicious; another sign that Fall is coming, and not soon enough. The weather is also getting cooler, which I'm enjoying.
So what am I complaining about anyway? Not anything of importance, obviously. But still I do.
Well, the Rottenator is off to work, so you know what that means: par-tay up in herra! Actually, what that normally means is "cleaning frenzy for Kathleen" but I'm caught up on my cleaning, so I'm bored and I decided: "Hey, what better way to cure this boredom than to add a little dash of self-loathing to the mix to spice things up a bit?"
So, in preparation for my new career, which begins on Tuesday, I decided to give my Spanx a test drive. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what Spanx are; there's probably no woman on the planet who doesn't know someone who owns a pair if they do not in fact own one themselves.
Incidentally, the woman who created Spanx, Sara Blakely, is one of my heroes along with JK Rowling. She's a fucking BILLIONAIRE, yo. That's with a "B". That's not why she's my hero; she's one of my heroes because she came about being a billionaire all on her own, from nothing, sewing panty hose onto underwear in her little place in the ATL (holla!) while supporting herself as a single mom. That's fucking amazing. JK Rowlings has much the same story, only she was a single mum. I love these women.
That's what makes this so painful, not as painful as trying on my Spanx, but close.
See, I've been hearing what a miracle this garment is, so of course I had to try it. I have a lot of imperfect anatomical parts, but the one that's bothered me the most, even since losing weight, is my tummy. I still have a muffin top no matter how much dieting and exercising I avoid doing, so I thought Spanx would be a great way to help out in that area until I get my membership to the Y, which is dependent on my first pay check in three weeks. I opted for this little number right here .
Yeah, so Spanx. They were not entirely what I was expecting. First of all, they are not as comfortable as everyone raves. No, they do not bind like a girdle, but they do fit like pantyhose, in that the crotch is somewhere around my knees, and even after a great deal of pulling and twisting and other gymnastic quality motions they still only ended up approximately in the general area of my nether regions.
Okay, fine, whatever. I'll add an extra 15 minutes to my getting ready for work time (time that I can subtract from my exercise routine) so I could live with that. Especially because once I actually pulled them up, I did notice that my stomach appeared flatter, and my pants fit better, so okay. I was willing to put up with them to the point that I wore them around the house for a minute, doing various chores.
And then I sat down. And they rolled down past my stomach to my hips. Defeating their purpose completely. So what the hell is the point of buying a pair of undergarments to help flatten your stomach when all they do is bunch up at your waist, making you look bulkier than before?
I still may give them a try; we shall see. I definitely will not attempt them with a skirt because I don't think it screams "we hired the right girl for the job!" when that girl is adjusting herself more often than a baseball pitcher.
Spanx, prior to experiment:
Spanx, post experiment, crumbled into a ball of rage:
How I'm Feeling Today (embracing my inner geek with a little bit of Dr. Who):
