Thursday, February 17, 2011

PURSUING RIGHTEOUSNESS - IN A MANNER OF SPEAKING

One of my personal rules is that one should regularly eat something new - food experimentation broadens the mind, and leads to pleasing discoveries.
So at least once a week I will go to a restaurant where I haven't yet been, and I also budget for ingredients that I have never used before.

Sometimes, after I have spent more than an hour cooking, food goes into the garbage can .


Sometimes it goes into my mouth and stomach, when it really should have gone into the garbage can.


I shall not tell you what I ate last night. Even though it is the reason why I arrived at the office hours ahead of my usual schedule.
Suffice to say that it involved no less than THREE hotsauces.
It was very good.

This morning, feeling PERFECTLY FINE, I got up at my usual hour and fixed myself a cup of coffee. And that, my friends, was a mistake – an unavoidable one (because I really require caffeine at that hour).

She (Savage Kitten, roommate and erstwhile significant other) also got up. And decided to wash her car.
Bear in mind that it wasn’t even light out, and not even the birds behind the building were awake yet. Pitchblack, at a time when normal people drowsily drink their coffee and think of heading to the bathroom.

Unfortunately, washing the car involves the bathroom. And the cootch bucket.

[The cootch bucket was described in this post: http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2010/08/big-bucket-full.html
At that time she was still my significant other, in case you're confused about our relationship after rereading that piece. We still live in the same apartment as friends and roommates, and we still have the cootch bucket. Some things remain constant.
One of them being, as you no doubt understand, cootch bucket.]


While she was busy washing her car - going in and out with bucketfulls of water - I was in the teevee room sucking down my morning coffee. Coffee wakes a body up, stimulating natural processes.
Little known fact: After a good night's sleep, any liquid at all re-angrifies an excess of hot pepper. The moisture revives the evil little particles that were perfectly quiescent, hiding in the nooks and grannies of the digestive system..... just waiting for 'rain'.

I really need the bathroom now, but she's using it. I'm a gentleman.
Clench.

Man, she's really scrubbing that car clean. Betcha it's gonna sparkle.
Clench.

I should mention that it's pouring cats and dogs out there. That car will get rinsed no matter what.
Clench.

It's dark, ice cold, and savagely cloudbursting. A normal woman would be curled up in a warm bed still twiddling her toes.
Clench.

For heavens sakes, she went all the way over to where she had parked, in a storm, to drive the car back to our street. Without any second thoughts or doubts about the sanity of washing her car at this time.
Clench.

What if I invade the bathroom screaming that it's an emergency, perhaps the second coming, let me in or we'll both regret it?
Clench.

I could curl up in a ball on the floor biting my fingers and moaning like a baby. That might help.
Clench.

Two of those hotsauces were completely new to me. At least one of them is a biohazard.
Clench.

Maybe hysterics and a weeping fit would help right now?
Clench.

My knuckles have turned white. I'm vibrating.
Clench.

.
.
.
.
.
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Perhaps the snack earlier in the evening wasn't such a good idea either. Potato chips wrapped in a tortilla and drenched with Tabasco.

I think you understand how it is that I am at the office far earlier than normal.

.
.
.
.
.
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No, I'm STILL not going to tell you what I had for dinner. You'll just have to do what I did, and discover on your own that it wasn't such a good idea.
In order to learn, we each have to make our own mistakes.

I can't wait till you make yours, though.



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2 comments:

e-kvetcher said...

Had similar experience coming home from a dinner at a vegetarian's home. The overload of soy/tofu on my digestive tract took effect about 30 seconds after I got on the road. It was late at night so there was nothing open where I could duck in to relieve myself. The drive home was the longest 15 minute drive of my life. I was going about 20 miles over the speed limit and calculating in my head what I would do if I got stopped by a cop.

Telmac said...

Ive noticed that your blog has turned into reminiscent longing of food, and rants about politics. If you could take out the latter, i might show up here more... if that counts for anything.

In my recent culinary adventures i took chopped onions, sauteed them, left them flat in the pan and cracked three eggs atop. I gently broke the yolks and allowed them to spread across the top. Then i flipped it right onto a plate and put it in the microwave to allow the yolks to just begin to solidify. Then i drenched it in Tapatio ('cause i dont like the taste of tabasco).

Im also working on a game called "__ __ and the shrine of the improbably ketchup". Its based on the 1000 monkeys with typewriters will write hamlet thing, but with ketchup. And a distinct lack of monkeys. Atleast monkeys with typewriters.

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