1-Giada’s boobs are huge, sure. But her head is really way too big as well, and I think there are plenty of big-boobed girls out there who have normal-sized heads, they just aren’t holding bowls of food. I think it’s a deadly combo for guys, given their strong association of food with boobies (hearkening back to their infancy). I think if Heidi Klum were ever holding a piece of food, most guys would just pass out from joy. Take that, Giada.
2-I’m pretty sure the apple I just ate had a conjoined twin. It had a second butt kind of jutting out the bottom left-hand area. I know “butt” probably isn’t a scientific term, but I swear to God I googled the crap out of it and could find no official nomenclature. It’s that part of the apple that is directly opposite of the stem, and looks kind of like…a butt. It was also sweet in an unholy, cloying way. Awful. I thought “Jazz apple? Sure. I like jazz. I like apples. Load me up.” I ended up buying $7 worth of saccharine-ass apples. I think I’ll make apple sauce with it tonight. I like my applesauce sweet.
3-There’s a kind of “elaborate” looking blonde girl in the group of students who just started for the 2009-2010 school year at our school. She’s not banging down the doors of hottyness, and dresses inappropriately for school. She’s a hair-tosser, too. I heard her complaining about the the original, adorably-German chef I had at the beginning of the term. She was crying and said he was mean to her. I am considering offering current evil chef money to let me watch on her first day of class with him, when she begins skills. He’s going to EAT her SOUL. One chef doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, but the other chef doesn’t like silly blonde girls.
4-I made cinnamon rolls (again).
I luuuuuurve cinnamon rolls.
These were a different recipe than I usually use, requiring me to purchase (gasp! cringe!) potato flakes. I would never have guessed that I’d ever purchase potato flakes. I felt like a traitor. Like a kitchen war criminal. Like I was committing culinary genocide just by having them in my cart. I wanted to explain to people as I walked by “Hi, just in case you were wondering, I’m definitely only using these as an ingredient to bake. I’m not going to, like, EAT potato flakes. Because that’s repulsive. Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t see those potato flakes in your cart…” I didn’t use the KAF frosting, though. I made my own with cream cheese and powdered sugar, with just a schmear of some vanilla bean paste.
5-The kitten is getting progressively even cuter, but isn’t a good sleeper. Every time I woke up last night she was either scaling something, purring and mewing at a high decibel, or licking my lips. Do you know what it’s like waking up to a tiny kitten licking your lips? I felt like a petophile (HA! Get it? Because it’s a baby? And it’s a cat? Oh nevermind.)
She’s “helping” me write this by sitting in a desk draw (“Where do you keep your kitten?” “Oh, right next to the hole-punch”), and sometimes coming out to stand on the “7” key for a while until my computer looks like it belongs to a crazed football fan who never QUITE got over the John Elway years.
That’s really all I’ve got for now. I’m making a good dinner, though. I think Chris is starting to suffer from scurvy, since last night’s dinner was, no bullshit, buffalo chicken sausages baked in refrigerator pizza dough. I’m a terrible woman.