I have been cursed in my life. Only a couple of times, but apparently there are "lifetime" curses. One of these curses is this: "You will never own a toaster that functions properly"... and I don't. I'm sitting here with slices of toast that are beautifully tanned on the upside of the bread and shiny with real butter (American butter, not the Irish butter that attracts so many global hits on this blog...sheesh, what's that about?). But this toast is absolutely white and totally non-toasted on the bottom. Absolutely untouched on the bottom. How does that happen while it's in the toaster oven? It's hot in there, right? Shouldn't it get a least a little crunchy? But nooooo, I'm putting butter on a crunchy, normal toasty side while the other side is...well...soft and "giving"...it's like biting into a beef sandwich and hearing the cow said "moo"...it's not normal...
The other curse is brownies. The curse must have gone something like this, "You will never make a perfect batch of brownies for as long as you live"...and I don't think I have. They're either too moist or too stuck to the pan or too dry or too something. I just don't get it. It's not like rocket science. I don't even make them from scratch; they're from a mix, for cryin' out loud. But do you think that appeases the brownie gods?....huh uh...ZAP! Another batch bites the dust...and by "bites the dust", I mean we eat it with spoons if we have to...we're not stupid...
Make-up. I don't understand it. I never will understand it. I purchased some foundation yesterday. I bought it because Diane Keaton was on the cover. Why did I do this? I know better than anyone that she looks great on that cover because 1. air brushing. 2. she's probably had her faced "professionally" peeled, scrubbed, fired, sand-blasted, lifted, tucked, folded, molded, and anything else that one can do to prolong their youthful appearance. Puhleese. At that level, beauty can be rented. If beauty was a luxury apartment, I'd be living under a bridge. Emmy suggested mineral make-up. "It's all powder" she said. I don't know if that's good. With my lines, I'm looking into spackling compound.
Walking in a noble manner. Nada. I do not possess a queenly demeanor, nor do I have a royal bearing. I walk like a 12-year-old. My spine, which has somehow remained flexible (thank you Lord!) is kind of all over the place, so my stride resembles a gangly adolescent, as opposed to the confident, professional woman I'm trying to pretend to me. Let's hope "walking" is never part of a job interview. Combine my walking with my schlepping of a big computer shoulder bag and an equally large purse and I resemble a mule with an attitude problem. Lovely.
Cooking. Can't do it. Don't particularly want to. Haven't got "the touch", the time, or the temperament to toss tasty tidbits together to create a terrific ...well...you get the picture. The boys are lucky to get a "home-bought" taco for dinner. Yea...guess who ISN'T a Stepford wife?
Well, it's getting late and I'm getting depressed thinking of all of the things I can't do. So, I'll practice a game I learned on one of my favorite blogs: rachelsaysso.blogspot.com.
It's called, "The Glad Game"; where I list something I'm glad for.
I'm glad for my family. I'm glad for my blog so I can record my thoughts. I'm glad for my little, "emergency back-up" dog, Buddha, who loves me and follows me everywhere *I guess he's the next shift after Snoopy :)* I'm glad for my children and grand children and their health. I'm glad for my mother and mother-in-law and siblings and their families. I'm glad for lots of things-many more than my curses. In fact, I'm feeling gladder and gladder.
Who needs double-sided toast, perfect brownies, perfect make-up and a perfect stride? I've got a blog about Irish Butter and international hits...I don't even want to tell you the hits that Christian Bale brings....I'm feeling better already....
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6 comments:
Over or under cooked brownies is one thing (maybe it's your pan? I find glass works the best.) but lopsided toast is UNACCEPTABLE.
I regularly bang my hand against the corner of an armoir that is on the path from my living room to my bedroom and I was lamenting this fact to my sister and she said, "Well, you do have a really wide arm swing." So now, every time I walk I picture myself LUMBERING around with my ape like arms. Most of the time I can laugh about it.
Only a sister could notice something like a "really wide arm swing"...not only that, they're probably the only ones in the world who would point that stuff out to you. And Rachel, for the record, I just can't for the life of me, not for one itty-bitty second, imagine all of that humor coming from someone with an ape swing...nope! Just can't do it...
hahah. .your brownies! when we lived at Tucker you began experimenting with microwavable brownies, something to this day I don't think has been mastered. Anyway, we used to get so excited because they would come out like ROCKS and we would soak them for minutes in our milk before we could bite through them without injuring ourselves. It made our treat last a long time! :)
Irish Butter brings international hits! Sounds like a headline in an entertainment e-zine.
I'm glad for YOU! We both are, so keep on keepin' on. You're the only one I've got left, so you better live forever.
Also, Emmy said you used to microwave brownies? I remember you made a microwave fried chicken recipe that was so hard to bite into it broke one of the brackets on my teeth and I had to go in and see the orthodontist the next day.
FYI, those are stuck to one's teeth with CEMENT.
For those things that require regular cooking, cook them regularly, mmmk?
quite interesting post. I would love to follow you on twitter.
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