My sister is in town for some job training, so of course I stayed at her hotel. I think hotels are more fun & appealing when I know I don't have to share the space with my dad, the loudest snorer in the world. One of the joys of hotels is the free continental breakfast. When I left, oh so early, this morning, I stopped in the lobby and snagged a little danish, some juice, an omelette and some yougurt. I think tomorrow I'm going to plan on leaving earlier so I can make some waffles.
Recently, I started eating breakfast again. It's fun. But I think my life would be complete if I had continental breakfast at my house, where I could grab what I want without having to cook it. Where could I hire out for that type of service? Would the food stay warm enough if I made it the night before? If I did that, I promise to never make bacon. It's incredible how that smell permeates every part of everything. Ew.
Which also reminds me...I called the meal at 12:00 "Dinner" today, and was mocked by my co-workers for calling it that. Turns out, according to wikipedia, that calling "lunch" "dinner" is typical of English, German, Canadian, & industrial cultures. And then supper is the closing meal of the day. So it wasn't weird that I called it that at all. In fact, in other research I've done, I learned that the "lunchlady" doesn't exist in England, she's the "dinnerlady."
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Lately, me and the friends have been watching scary movies. Which apparently do nothing for me, but are enjoyable nonetheless. Last night as I left "The Sixth Sense" I think I ran over a hampster. I know. Weird. What is a hampster doing out at 11:30? I refuse to go back & check. When I get out of my car, I notice something moving across the ground. I absolutely freaked out, because I think it's a rodent at my feet. ew. It wasn't, just light as I shut the car door. Rodents gross me out in every way possible. Why was I effected by the rodent, but not the scary movies? Right now, I'm sitting on the floor, and I'm starting to get worked up, thinking a rodent is going to get me. I hate mice. I still am very resentful to the mouse that stole my cookie during lunch. But I'm grateful for strong friends that are diseffected by the mouse business. They keep me sane. I'm also grateful that I can seperate life from make believe.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
I don't know about this.
I'm not Hawaiian, but I love Hawaiian Haystacks. I think it's pretty typical of my life. Jack of all, master of none. Yes, I think I'm great at a lot of things, not at one thing in particular. I guess I need more than the normal dose to satisfy me. Odd. I realized that not one thing identifies me. Nothing was more stressful than trying to figure out a name for a blog that I will be known by. (Not that anyone will ever really notice the name, just that my name is associated with the posting.) [Maybe that's why I'm not married, that would lead to children, and to more indecision on what to name them :0)] I do know that I love hawaiian haystacks. I eat them every Thursday. It's a little piece of heaven. So, I'm going to work on figuring out an identity. Good luck, right?