the division

before ben left for work this morning we talked about making dinner together. like a real dinner. like no microwave involved. like defrosting chicken. (i know!) so i made a small grocery list, moved said chicken from the freezer into the fridge, etc etc. at work i thought about when i should go shopping. what time i should get home so that we can start cooking asap. i thought, "do we have a vegetable side to go with dinner?" i thought, "this is going to be romantic." we were going to cook together, be together, have a great night, etc etc.

whoa.

i get home, groceries in hand. i do dishes whilst doing laundry. i take chicken out to further thaw. i am pumped and ready to be as much like giada as i am humanly capable. i have music on. what could be bad? well! ben gets home. is in a bad mood. is hungry/tired/grumpy. does not want to cook dinner tonight. instead he has leftovers. and we barely say two words to each other all night.

hmm.

how could the chasm between fantasy and reality have been so vast tonight? i mean, it was insurmountable. and soooooo disappointing. *sigh* i should have known that since the planning was going so smoothly, something would come along and muck it up. a friendly reminder that god laughs while we make plans, i suppose.

touche god, touche.

all of this waiting

and all for banana bread. let's see. i screwed up kraft mac n cheese last week. (possible? oh, quite.) and tonight i waaaaaaay (like way) undercooked my banana bread. thank goodness ben wanted a piece and i went to cut it and it was like, "oh hi, i'm banana bread. i LOOK like i'm all brown and cooked through but wait! i'm not! i'm super uncooked! yippee!!" at which point i unhappily placed said bread's loaf pan back and waited another 15 minutes. nope. still not done. and another 10 minutes. i have been making banana bread (this recipe) for, OH, 15 solid years. apparently just a blip on the radar screen of the kitchen gods because they were laughing their...well, they were just laughing at me. loudly. i have never encountered a loaf that took an additional 25 minutes to cook.

apparently there is a first time for everything.

i don't know, kitchen gods. i feel like i try so hard. i want to be amazing in the kitchen. i want to glide around throwing ingredients this way and that. i want to create. how will i ever parent if i can't even make a nice batch of mac n cheese with my eyes closed? from the box, nonetheless!?!? it seems an unforgiving situation.

any tips or pointers?? i'm desperate, y'all. (p.s. i only say y'all on here. i have never actually spoken the word. not even in jest. is that weird? poor californians...their accented words consist of 'brah' and 'dude.' which mean the same thing. *sigh*)

in other news, my bad mood seems to have lifted. which is awesome. because now i can be normal again. and understand and be understood. simultaneously! perhaps each set of gods gets a shot at someone. like the mood gods were having their fun with me this past weekend. now the kitchen gods have taken over. and it wouldn't be fair for two sets of gods to set their sights on an unwitting victim. would it? (what does unwitting mean??)

my goals:
1. transform into giada delaurentiis.
2. start spending more time with my dictionary.
3. ...what else is there? :)

goodnight to my friends all over the world tonight. may your dreams be as those of the happiest children. and may all your christmases be white...(ok, so i gave up on that last one...)


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