Tuesday, March 03, 2009

A Pile of Words

Time for another blog post in which my comments are not tied together by a common theme, but rather thrown together into a big steaming pile*.

So after we finished watching all 12 seasons of Buffy and Angel, we have moved on to other tv shows. Lost, I already mentioned we had started, and we are now on season 2. The other one we started, which I think I like a lot better than Lost is Battlestar Galactica. Its filling the void left by Star Trek, but it also has good acting, non-one-dimensional characters and semi-plausible plots (as opposed to the rampant time traveling in 2 of every 3 Star Trek episodes). We're almost done with season 2, and I highly recommend it to all.

My interviews (4 so far) with company X have all gone well, and in my last interview we even talked salary. Am I going to divulge the identity or location of company X? No. Am I enjoying keeping a secret and driving certain people crazy? Yes. I would tell all right now, but A.) I don't want to jinx this one like I have every other job prospect in the past two years by telling everyone, and B.)I have a kick-A way in which I am going to tell everyone. Patience.

In a few days or weeks, I am going to plant my birthday tomato. More accurately, I am going to plant the tomato plants from which my birthday tomato will come. Last year I didn't get a tomato until August, just a few days before we went to Seattle, so I didn't even get to enjoy a full harvest until late August. I vowed: "Never again!", and from that moment I resolved to have a tomato ready to pick by my birthday, June 11th. 'June 11th?' You exasperatedly ask yourself, thinking I'm crazy by trying to get a tomato a full 1.5 months before the earliest normal first tomato date, and your doubt would be well justified. But this year I am going to completely enclose one of my garden beds in clear plastic, and put in several strands of christmas lights in to keep the plants warm at night. That way I should be able to keep the daytime temperature above 80 or 90, with the nighttime temp hopefully around 55 or 60. Around June 1st I will also stress one of the plants by cutting off 3/4 of its roots, making it think that its about to die and that is should ripen all its fruit. I will also use a pollinating spray to force the first flowers to pollinate. Pictures to follow soon...

So remember my rashly-made goal of exercising every day and cutting my calories to 2000 a day? Well shine my head and color me red, I actually stuck to it and it is now a habit. (Feel free to use that shine my head bit. But it only works for me because I can actually shine my head.) As a result of my 7 weeks of stick-to-it-ive-ness, I have lost about 12 pounds, increased my strength by quite a bit (as measured by bench press and pull-ups (I can do 12 now, up from 1 when I started)), and my mile time is now at 5:43, which is 40 seconds off my best high school time. And this is the first time since... ever, that working out has become a habit for me. And all it took was my dad coming close to death. Go dad!

Jenny and I are in the one of the Draper Temple dedication choirs that will sing at one of the 8 dedication sessions right there in the celestial room. Good times.

Why is everyone so upset with Rush Limbaugh? I mean, he has said stupid things in the past that I didn't agree with, but oh well, he's an entertainer as he himself has said on many occasions. But this time Democrats and liberals are just being stupid and dishonest themselves, to the point where it is seriously discrediting them in the eyes of anyone who heard the Limbaugh quote in context. Democrats and Obamabots are getting their panties all bunched up because Limbaugh said "I hope he fails." What he actually said was more along the lines of "If his goal is to create a socialist state, then I hope he fails", not, as Obamabots claim: "I hope he fails in his attempt to stimulate the economy." If that is what Obama's real goal is, then I hope it fails too. Seriously, grow up Obamabots.

Lucy is on her third article of faith, or as she calls them, her "we believes". However, everytime the word is 'that', she says 'but', which renders the 2nd We Believe as: "We believe but man will be punished for his own sins..." and the 3rd We Believe as: "We believe but through the atonement of Christ..."

We're on an asian food kick. There is a family in the ward where the mom was born in Thailand but raised in the U.S., and has taught us how to make Thai soup. To assure the longevity of our eternal marriage, Jenny has learned how to make this soup, plus several other asian recipes that our friend has made for us including this amazing (I was about to say a word that begins with 'or' and rhymes with 'shmasmic', but then I remembered this is a family blog) dish that is basically a tomato papaya salad. I think the recipe called for mixing liquid meth with shredded crack and pouring that over papaya and tomatos.

Speaking of our new asian food repertoire, Jenny learned how to make sticky rice with peanut dipping sauce. This dish calls for a little less crack but more than makes up for it with marijuana infused alcohol.

I'm loling as I imagine the google ads that would appear alongside this post if I were to allow advertising.

Its posts like these that kind of make me a little depressed as I struggle to come up with anything notable that has happened to me or that I have done in the past month, and I'm blanking already. New diet and excersize, check. Asian food, check. Temple choir, check. Birthday tomato, check. Hmmm, not much else going on. Lets rant about liberals and Rush Limbaugh, check. Oh, Lucy's kinda cool... check. Oh, I've got another one:

Someone shot our kitchen window with a paintball. Ok, my life sucks. Stay tuned for next month's pile of words*.

*I openly admit that I lifted the steaming pile imagery from Eric Snider (see sidebar).


Julie C said...

Okay Jenny - how do you make the sticky rice with peanut dipping sauce? If you even say the words peanut sauce, everyone in this house starts drooling.

apyknowzitall said...

I really hope that 'certain' person isn't me.