Day One Hundred and Forty-Two - Sacri-licious

I've already talked a bit about my feelings on Easter, but to reiterate - they aren't terribly grand. When I was younger I would often go to church on Holy Thursday [that's today] with my friends, which was pretty unusual. Our church had this tradition of having the priest wash the feet of certain pre-selected church people. I think it was either largely or entirely comprised of people who were going to be confirmed that spring. I was entirely terrified that I would be selected. Looking back now, there is no way I would have been as I wasn't really churchy and my original confirmation name was rejected for...I dunno...being too hookery? But at the time, I was thirteen years old and I had enough of my own problems without worrying about putting my feet on display in front of a crowded church.

Anyway, I wasn't selected and therefore I've gone my whole life without a priest pedicure. Or any kind of pedicure [I don't like paying people to touch me]. I've also never been on the other end of things so tonight I washed someone else's feet. It made me feel really subservient, but I guess happy that I was doing something nice for someone, without expecting something in return. I used bath bubbles and bath salts and a citrus scrub...which I'm sure Jesus would have done too, if they were available to him. Instead he probably used myrrh because dang, that guy loved myrrh.

Day One Hundred and Forty-One - So Are The Days Of Our Lives

Yes, I am a big fan of Days of our Lives [and yes, it really is referred to as DOOL by its fans - the Friends were right about that]. Actually, I should say that I am a "fan" of DOOL. Because I really kinda hate the show. And 97% of the characters. And storylines. And acting/directing/hairstyles/technical stuff. And yet I watch it everyday - it is a comfort to me. When I see that hourglass, I know that things will be okay for the next hour [or 40 minutes if I've recorded it]. And, on hourglasses - I think they are neat. When I first met Joseph he had an hourglass and a feather quill in his residence room and I thought that was just the cat's ass. I'm...strange.

So - 9+ years down the road - we still have the hourglass [and quill], but it doesn't get much use...okay - ANY use. In the event that the end of the world is upon us and we have no other means to tell/mark time, an hourglass will come in handy [Joseph thinks the sun will be helpful for this, but what about at night? Or if the sun is blotted out due to climate change, thank you very much Al Gore?]. So, in preparation for that tonight I used an hourglass to time something. See - it's not really an HOURglass in the strictest sense of the word "hour" unless hour = about 16 minutes and 20 seconds. So I put on a clay facial mask thing and when I do that I don't wear my glasses and I can't see any clocks without a lot of squinting, therefore the hourglass was the ideal solution. My pores are so happy with the hourglass solution!

Day One Hundred and Forty - But They Are Not Yours They Are My Own

There is no real detailed explanation or anything too clever about this one. I saw it on Wikihow and realized that I have never done this [though my skills @ other forms of divination are known throughout the lands]. Also, under the "materials needed" section it listed just one thing and that one thing is attached to my wrist...so, laziness triumphs once more. That's right tonight I learned how to read palms. I did myself first and then Joseph, who seemed unusually willing to participate [sometimes I feel like I'm dragging him kicking and screaming into my Extraordinary Things].

The first thing to know is that palm reading is generally done to see where you have been, not really to determine where you are going. Also, since your hand changes over time [or in the case of Buster on AD is replaced with a hook] you can re-read your palm as time goes by. Sadly, I didn't really have a revealing experience. I learned the following about myself [Joseph's is a secret except to say that he has no fate line, which makes him the ultimate master of his domain]: I fall in love easily, I have experienced emotional trauma, I am creative and spontaneous, I have a short attention span, I am prone to emotional crisis, I am often faced with momentous decisions, I have plenty of energy and vitality, I am strong and enthusiastic and I am prone to changes in life from external forces. Hand shape is also important and from that I learned that: I am sociable, talkative and witty, I can be shallow, spiteful and cold, I am comfortable with the intangible and I do things in different and radical ways.

So really, I didn't learn anything new. I'm not quite sure what the purpose of reading one's past is - aside from a neat parlour trick. Joseph and I have very similar palms [but entirely different hands - I have creepy alien fingers], except that like Kara Thrace, I have a special destiny.

Day One Hundred and Thirty-Nine - The Innocent Words Of A Drunken Child

I'm a bit surprised by St. Patrick's Day each year. Even though I spent many years growing up believing that my ancestry was Irish [it's not, it's complicated - though I'm probably the most Canadian person ever] the fact that so many people celebrate this day is shocking. I know, it's a great excuse to be gone drinkin' - and let's face it, March sucks so you need this. But it really does have a whole marketing machine behind it - there are many possibilites when one is searching for just the right St. Patrick's Day crapola to purchase [my favourite is my shamrock doodlebop headpiece springy thing which I didn't wear today as it gives me a headache and I'm not sure the museum has that much of a sense of humour].

However, the main thing that one can purchase on St. Patrick's Day is green beer. I can't remember ever going out for green beer @ a pub [though really, I'm sure it happened and my lack of memory only tells me that it was the usual classy outing that frequently happened during university]. In some American city they even turn the water in a river green, which I think is neat. And now that I made my own green beer - I'm wondering if they do this with some gigantic dropper of food colouring? Okay, so the secret of turning beer green is DO NOT USE GREEN FOOD COLOURING. Ever. Beer #1 [which was Joseph's beer] I used green [and put it in after the beer, also not smart] and the colour ended up so sickly. Like, swamp water. That had been infected with cholera. Joseph still drank it. Beer #2 I dropped a single drop of blue food colouring into the glass, then poured the beer which turned a true Irish green [just like my eyes]. However, it was still difficult to drink - there is something about mucking with the colour of food/drink that makes it quite unappealing. Also, I've totally lost my drinking abilities and after a few sips I'm like - yeah, I'm good - I don't want to get a headache. See - not Irish.

[of course, I am kidding. conan would forgive me. his show was rocking the irish self-deprecation tonight with martha stewart - awesome!]

Day One Hundred and Thirty-Eight - They're Ba-ack!

I'm not sure how it entirely came about...but Joseph and I were talking about McDo and watching some adverts from the 70s for them...and then I found out that they used to have a mascot called Uncle O'Grimacey who showed up appropriately enough on St. Patrick's Day. I got to reminiscing about my love for Shamrock Shakes and Joseph says - oh, they are back @ this one McDo up north. I was disbelieving, although Wikipedia told me that the shakes were back @ selected McDos in Canada. We went out to the shops to get some random items [one of which will have me using a drill some time this week - yeah!] and were on our way back home when Joseph asked if we should bother checking our local McDo for Shamrock Shakes. Feeling optimistic, we went and were greatly rewarded as they had them! I got a Shamrock Shake!

Okay, they are obviously only available for a limited time and by the time anyone is reading this on Monday, this will be your last chance dance, friends. I cannot encourage you strongly enough to avail yourself of some fine milkshake product. If not for yourself, won't someone please think of the children? Right then. It was spectacular. For about an hour or so. And then...my stomach said "oh hell to the no" and I felt incredibly unwell. For a short period of time...but I think that Shamrock Shakes might be human Drano. All I remember is the March Breaks of my misspent youth when I would drink gallons of Shamrock Shakes [often mixed with booze - vodka was good, so was Creme de Menthe if you are looking to really supersize it] while watching the NCAA Final Four basketball tournament all day...I remember there was one player who would take a lot of penalty shots and Claire and I were not fond of him...but I can't remember specifics because clearly Shamrock Shakes are also roofies or something.

Also, even though this experience didn't end well, I'm totally getting another one tomorrow after the museum...I never learn.

Day One Hundred and Thirty-Seven - If The Shoe Fits...

Okay, so this is going to sound a bit bizarre as I have been volunteering there for seven weeks or so, but today I went to the Bata Shoe Museum as a visitor. Yeah, I haven't been to the shoe museum. Once I stuck my head into the Star Turns exhibit to check for the presence of Terry Fox's shoe and it was confirmed...but that was the end of that. So today Joseph and I were in the Annex as he needed a haircut and we wanted to go out in the sunshine...though apparently the sunshine didn't have much use for us as it went away as soon as we were ready to enjoy. So, we needed an inexpensive location to work up an appetite away from the elements and bam - there was the shoe museum.

I think the shoe museum gets a big of a bad rap...well, because it's the shoe museum [I'm sure the other gallery I volunteer @ gets a bad rap too because it's contemporary art and it's really easy to pile on the hate there]. However, it is really interesting and quite a unique view of the world, cultures, religion and history...through footwear. The Rococo exhibit was the most uninteresting, however I think that's partly because I have always disliked the Rococo period in art...so really - why would their shoes be any more enlightening? It was interesting that in the Rococo period women were thought to be the weaker/lesser sex in part because of their indulgence and love for fashion. I just found that to be a bit of irony...in the shoe museum. Also, men wore high heels to prove how awesome they were...HA!

Day One Hundred and Thirty-Six - Spring Break! Woo!

So, I might not have been able to go on a fabulous spring break holiday like my friend Claire and [later on this month] my mum - but in my own, fun-employed, financially responsible way, I can still celebrate this most important of seasons. In particular, the season where one shouts "spring break! woo!" and then flashes onself [not that I expect Claire or my mum to be doing this]. I experienced a bit of spring break on Monday @ the museum with all of the March Break activities, but that hardly counts [mostly because Boram - my fellow volunteer - and I weren't allowed a single undecorated cookie].

So today, after three days of food-related Extraordinary Things I decided to be extra clever and I wore a bikini all day. I'm sure that I have never done this, even in my summers spent @ the beach. I certainly have never done this under my winter clothes and through two outfit changes [like Britney Spears I go mental @ home and like to try on different outfits...but not wigs...yet]. I went out grocery shopping and I also went out for sushi. But mostly, I spent the whole day not unlike a dog with his collar on and leash out...just as he/she may think they are going for a walk, I spent the day just feeling like I was going to the beach. Not that I ever go to the beach and it's certainly not nearly warm enough. I'm mostly just delighted that a year and a bit later, my bikini still fits and it's still supercute.

Day One Hundred and Thirty-Five - Three-Peat

Okay - so a superfun 3-for-1 food-related Extraordinary Thing! Today I used leftovers to create a completely different meal. This is kinda a big thing for me since I do not eat leftovers. Unless it's pizza [and then I prefer it as a leftover] or udon. Joseph eats all of the leftovers. And preparing [on purpose] extra food for a second meal is all the rage on that cooking show that I hate, but tend to end up watching 10 minutes of it on a daily basis anyway, so I guess there is something to it.

What happened was - there was an unexpected large amount of filling left from the omelettes of Tuesday. A combination of Spanish onions, red bell peppers, celery and cannellini beans that had been sauteed in preparation for being part of the omelette extravaganza. I should have known better as the recipe is from an English cookbook and their vegetables are always smaller and I didn't account for that. So...what to do? I considered making more omelettes, but was lacking in eggs. And tonight I had to go out and, knowing Joseph would not prepare himself anything more complicated than pot noodles, I decided to transform the leftovers into a hearty soup - adding some diced tomatoes, vegetable stock and a dazzling array of herbs and spices. The result was so delicious that I ended up coming home and eating the leftover soup as well! It felt good to be all free-form and without recipe - and also to use up things that were contributing to clutter fridge.

Day One Hundred and Thirty-Four - An Acquired Taste

Okay, back to back food things - it makes me happy. I am already thinking about what I will do with this blog once the year is up [who am I kidding - I was thinking about this the day I started]...and perhaps something with food is not an entirely bad idea, although it neglects my other main interests: TV, American politics, art/architecture, baseball and hot celeb gossip. But, I digress [as I do]. Last week during my grocery shop I noticed that rapini was on sale. Normally I wouldn't purchase something like this in the grocery store [meaning a food that I hadn't already experienced - usually prepared in a restaurant], but our grocery store has a terrible selection of fresh fruits and vegetables, so whatever is on sale, that's usually what I buy.

Tonight I prepared and ate rapini. I have never had rapini before, although it's super fashionable right now. I thought I would like it as I heard it was bitter and a bit strange and generally, that's what I like [in people and in food]. I prepared it by blanching and then then lightly sautee-ing in a butter sauce. Although it shrunk up a lot [which I should have been expecting], it was very good and I look forward to having it again. You can tell that it is just chock-full of vitamins.

On a side note Joseph mentioned to me that I should be cautious in what I write here in case potential employers Google me. While it is unlikely they would find this, if they do - all I have to say is PLEASE GIVE ME A JOB...I'm awesome. And honestly, aside from toning my naughty words down, I don't give too much consideration to what I write. I'm vaguely aware that friends/family might be reading...but I figure they all know me and are probably expecting something much worse!

Day One Hundred and Thirty-Three - Let's Get Cracking

I do about 95% of the cooking @ home and that's the way I like it. I love cooking and find it relaxing and a rewarding creative outlet. However, there are three items that Joseph always cooks - eggs, mashed potatoes [which he hasn't done in years] and pancakes. While Joseph was in Belgium for two months last summer I learned myself [yes, that's right - I learned myself] how to make scrambled eggs. Delicious. I followed the example of Martha Stewart and she is not one to steer you wrong. But Joseph still makes the fried eggs as well as omelettes [which we have not had in years as well] - there is just something intimidating about them. Like, not knowing when they are done or splitting the eggs open or hard cooking them accidentally. And yeah, I was pretty embarassed when Gordon Ramsay was calling people out on Hell's Kitchen for not being able to fry an egg.

Well, I still can't fry an egg, but I have added something to my egg oeuvre as tonight I made omelettes. They were kinda Spanish omelettes as they had Spanish onions, red peppers, celery and beans. The experience was a bit scary as eggs cook so quickly, but then...not quickly enough. I got all antsy attempting to flip the omelettes in half, but it was mostly recoverable. They tasted very good, but were rather huge [and half of the filling will now have to be converted into soup] and I do think overcooked. I have a tendency to overcook meat [I think because I don't eat it] as I don't want to kill someone. Raw eggs are killer. Happily death by omelettes was averted this evening.