Monday, April 29, 2013

Holy Milestone, Batman!!

This marks my 200th blog post. I know.

Believe you me, I never expected to get here. Honestly, I probably would have expected to get to 200 words and call it quits. I’m sure you find it hard to believe, since I’m normally so long winded, but it’s true.

My thought would be that I would have a really great post for such an event. But that’s just not the case. This will be a mish-mash of random crap. You’re welcome.

I recently purchased an electronic drum kit from my friend Dave, a.k.a. the worst friend ever. Shortly after, I had my friend, Brian, over and he spied it with his little eye sitting unassembled in the corner. He was horrified that such a thing could happen and demanded (read: hinted repeatedly) that it should be set up.

I allowed him the pleasure. Partially because he really wanted to, but also because I had no idea how to do it myself. Truth be told, I was planning on calling him or Dave to help with the process when I got the inkling to do so.


Now I just got to learn how to use all four limbs independently. Not going to be easy. But it will make music day much more interesting!! You know, when someone that can play drums comes over.

Throughout Brian’s visit, and his follow up visit to make sure I could use my set up properly, he brought a little friend of his. His name is Hank. And he’s a dog. During this visit, Brian also taught me something:

Hey Hank

Yeah, that’s right. I gif now. When I was trying to determine if my EZ-post-it software could upload gifs to my blog, I discovered that it was going to be my 200th post. I promptly unpublished it and decided to make it the most epic, memorable post of all time.

And then I sorely disappointed my readers. I’m sorry.

In an attempt to make it up to you, and also practice my new found gif skills, I made something for you that shows exactly what I was thinking when I posted my “Hey Hank” trial.

200posts - animated

And that monstrosity is my 200th post.

It’s bound to get better from here.

Thanks so much for your support, or at least for keeping your judgment to your inside voice.

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Curry in a hurry

I really enjoy cooking, but I’ve fallen out of the habit as of late. As a result, I’ve been sustaining myself on prepared foods as well as eating out and taking in. None of which are very good for my nutritional needs, pocket book or waist line.

I’ve decided I need to start getting back into it. The other day, I left work early enough that stores were open (what a concept!). I was able to purchase items for the meal I was planning on making. Partially because I didn’t have the forethought to defrost some meat, but also because I wanted an ingredient I don’t normally purchase.

I was feeling pretty good about myself as I was driving home and started envisioning myself in the kitchen for the first time in weeks. Then it hit me.

That White Girl - curry - no pepper

I don’t know how I’d forgotten. I also don’t know how I’ve gone grocery shopping about a dozen times since I ran out and never once purchased it.

I didn’t want to break stride, so I convinced myself that I didn’t need pepper in my life.

I was planning on making curry. Normally when I make curry, I make, what I like to call, the white person version of curry (surprise, surprise). Basically a curry-flavoured stew. All the meat and veg are tossed in a pot, sauce is made, simmered down and once the texture of everything is converted to mush, it’s served over rice.

In my experience, a brown person would never, ever, do this. They have a different curry for every dish. From goat to chicken, from chick peas to potatoes; every curry has a different blend of spices. I decided that I was going to be less white when I made curry that night. I was going to make beef vindaloo and aloo gobi (potato cauliflower). They were going to be separate, they were going to have different flavours and they were going to be delicious, dammit.

I didn’t anticipate the troubles I would have from being so out of practice.

I started the aloo gobi because I knew the potatoes would take awhile to cook. Once that was going, I started the beef vindaloo. But I was a bit short on time, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to let the curry reduce as much as normal. I decided to coat the beef in flour in order to thicken the sauce without having to reduce it. Good idea in theory, but in practice…

That White Girl - curry - too thick

I may or may not have gone overboard.

I also didn’t take into consideration the sheer water content of cauliflower.

That White Girl - curry - too runny

An hour after I started, I jacked up the temperature on the aloo gobi to try and evaporate off some of the excess water.

But it was taking too long. I already added broth to my vindaloo to try and thin it out and despite my best efforts my aloo gobi was soup. I was hungry and my rice was getting cold.

That White Girl - curry - golidlocks!

So I took the dishes that I painstakingly kept separate and mixed them together. Blending meat and veg together. Blending mango/madras curry with vindaloo.

The end product had the most perfect consistency. It was also delicious. Even if those of Indian descent would probably cringe.

Monday, April 8, 2013

Famn Damily

I love my mom. But she’s driving me crazy right now. For the most part, we have a very open relationship; she’s someone that I share the vast majority of my life with and she does the same. We talk once a week, for a couple hours each time, and discuss everything that has happened since the last time we talked.

And, for the most part, I love that. But every so often, she drives me absolutely bonkers and I want to start screening my calls Sunday morning. This has been happening consistently for the past couple of months.

Mom was going through a rough time with her business and she was quite stressed out about it. Naturally, she wanted to talk about it and vent. But I swear we had the exact same conversation, every week, for three months.

That White Girl - annoying mom - couch talker

I didn’t mind that I felt as if we were just rehashing the same topic over and over; she needed to talk about it and I know I’ve kept her on the line for far too long because I was upset about something.

But after a few weeks, the topic of conversation no longer shifted anywhere else. We stopped talking about other aspects of her life and, short of “And how has your week been?”, the topic never seemed to shift to me. Sometimes the conversation would end immediately after her asking that question.

That White Girl - annoying mom - let you go

I found it a bit odd, but let it be, because, clearly, she needed to talk more than I did.

But things have changed for awhile for me. It was crazy busy at work and as a result I had been operating at an elevated stress level for quite some time. It started to wear on me.

Nothing bad – it’s not like I’ve stopped eating or sleeping or anything, I just felt a bit worn out and the time came where I need to vent to someone about it.

A couple weeks ago, my mom, after discussing her topic de jour, asked me how my week at work was. I said it had been crazy. She asked why. I took a deep, sighing breath and said “It’s just crazy. Like absolutely insane.” I took another deep, sighing breath.

That White Girl - annoying mom - I barely work

I guess she thought I was done. She continued telling me about her week at work; how many hours she worked (not many), how many customers she had (even less) and when she was done:

That White Girl - annoying mom - let you go

Are you fucking kidding me?? I guess she thought I was done.

That White Girl - annoying mom - how early is too early to start drinking

A couple weeks ago, she started asking me if I'd started on my school project. I told her I hadn’t had any time. She started questioning me on it, with judgment creeping into her voice. I told her it has been crazy busy at work and I just didn’t have time. She said “Really?!?!” as if it’s the first she’s heard about it.

I told her that I had been working 10-12 hour a day, going in for a “half day” (a mere 6 hours) on the weekend. That I’d been doing that for the past three weeks. That I barely eat dinner anymore because I don’t get home until 9pm and then I have to start thinking about going to bed so I can do it all over again. That I hoped it would slow down soon, because I don’t know how much more I can take. 

That White Girl - annoying mom - I barely work FML

The good news is that my mom doesn’t read my blog. The really good news is the chaos at work has reduced itself to a much more manageable level and I feel a lot more balanced. I might even have time to start working on my project!