Last night was dinner party the second w/my new friend Ed. The first one was a success, except for the fact that two of the three male dinner guests are contractors who have to wake up at the asscrack of dawn, thus their dinner hour typically begins anywhere from 6pm to 6:30pm. I don't have a problem with eating dinner that early, but I do have a problem with making dinner to meet that time expectation, especially since I get off work at 5pm, go take out Rootimer, then have to drive to Ed's house in order to start cooking. By those margins all I'd be able to crank out would be beanie weenies (as if!). Our first dinner party was lasagna, and we had them waiting until 8:30 to eat, which just about killed everyone so this time we had a deadline of 6:45, so Ed and I each made certain parts at our respective places, and just warmed them up. I, with the help of my Dad, made scalloped potatoes au gratin and a neiman marcus cake, and Ed took care of the roasted chicken and broccoli. Now THAT, my friends, is not a dinner party it is potluck, and I told Ed so; we're going to have to figure something else out for next time. We all had a really good time, though I was a bit embarrassed to attach my name to such a bland chicken recipe. Let me clarify that it was not the chef-Ed did a great job-but the recipe just sucked. I had been sent all of these really nice recipe cards, but I never really had a chance to use them b/c I was in Seguin all by myselfee. Now that I'm in a place where I've met people to cook with/for, I find out those recipe cards are for sucks (one of the instructions called for Stove Top Stuffing!!!!!) and all of my awesome cookware and dazzling kitchen gadgets are 30 miles away and in storage. In any event, I am looking forward to next time even though cooking Wednesday night caused me to be late for work Thursday morning, and drinking wine and gabbing until 11:30 caused me to be late this morning as well. Ah well...as far as problems go, this one isn't a bad one to have.
I have been experiencing some turbulence in landlady land. Apparently the pool has turned green and my tenants are looking to me to fix it. Uhhh...no.... I spent well over $400 getting that pool back in shape AND purchasing chlorine and shock for them to use on the pool, which I felt was a pretty nice thing to do. I showed them how to shock the pool and told them when to shock it. Four weeks later the water is green (algae is the likely culprit), and they are both looking at me like starving baby birds. BROKE, starving baby birds. When I told her how much the bucket of shock costs ($70.00) and that she needed to get some more, her immediate response was "We can't afford that!" Well, maybe you guys should have thought of that before you rented my home and insisted I spend the money to clear up the pool. Besides, 70 bucks for two people is not such a big deal, while my shelling out ANOTHER $70 for a pool I don't USE seems like a much larger injustice. I need to put my foot down and have them realize these things are their responsibility. She's claiming she did everything I told her to do and it still turned green (my fault, right?) and I'm thinking "Since you're not colorblind, at the first hint that it was turning green you should have googled that shit b/c the pool is YOUR problem for the length of lease." And lastly, I'm hoping she's just being miserly on principle b/c I paid for the electricity and water this month (since it was for what I used in July), so they had BETTER have enough wiggle room for an extra $35 per-person expense b/c they haven't even really begun to pay all their bills yet. See...this is NOTHING like I thought it would be! Damn that Mr. Furley for making it all seem so glamorous! :-)
I have previously relayed my newly found dabbling into the seedy underworld of salacious texting/e-mailing, but after sobering up and really looking at the things I shared, I'm getting nervous that my ex and I had a really good (better than average) sex life, and that maybe I won't be able to garner that kind of passion again. It makes sense b/c while we were very good friends, we drove each other freakin' batty, and subsequently took it out on each other in the bedroom. I dunno...it's silly, and I surely won't subject you all to my boudoir repertoire for your actual opinions, but typing it all out like that just made me see that our "regular" nights were still pretty damn sexy. Or maybe I'm just so starved for affection it all just seems so much greater. I guess I'd need to first even just get a lousy piece of action before I start worrying about all this crap. Ha ha!
Tomorrow my mom and I are going to Houston on a poodle rescue mission! No really! Mom and Dad are ready to get another dog, after Rootie’s sister inexplicably vanished in the wee hours of the morning back in April, and they’ve decided that instead of paying for a dog, they should rescue one that needs a good home. Wednesday I visited the vet to get a letter of recommendation for my folks who needed to prove they are responsible pet owners. I didn’t know this, but apparently even when one is trying to rescue a homeless dog, you have to show up w/some credentials. I think it’s a good idea; wouldn’t want the rescue places to become one of the largest providers of mystery meat at the local buffets. I am a tad nervous though because I know it’s going to be very very difficult for me to leave all of those little ones behind. Yes, we’re hopefully going to find two of them and give them ridiculously pampered little lives with scads of affection and love, but I know that my mind will be focused on all those littles that we can’t take with us. And please PLEASE may I have the strength not to get a new brother or sister for Rootie. Amen.
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