Misadventures in Cooking

Well, I'm nearing the end of my first week of full-time employment in the professional world. It's deadening and good at the same time.

For one thing, my time spent with food, thinking about food, preparing food, is drastically reduced. With this advent, I have noted a need for advanced meal planning, grocery shopping consolidation, and even advanced meal preparation.

Whereas before, I'd browse the internet, come across a recipe that I liked or wanted to try, go to the store and by necessary ingredients (if needed), and then cook. Then eat. That was my life, people.

So don't blame me when yesterday, in preparing chicken alfredo (for the following day, mind you), I grabbed the spice bottle with a grinder top, and later smelled, to my confusion, CINNAMON. Yes folks: instead of a mixed peppercorn grinder, I had indeed grabbed a cinnamon sugar grinder.

Deadening, you see? Welcome to the world of work, Amanda. But I'm still happy to be here.

my best friend married an Italian

While the title to this post is true (and sounds like a good title), it is completely irrelevant.

What I really want you to know about is this:

I was grocery shopping yesterday. I made my circuit from Costco, to Sunflower Market, and then to Buy Low.


You may not find this strange, but I thought it odd that I saw the exact same woman in all three places checking out slightly before me. She was pregnant, had blond hair, and wore a green tank top.

Strange, don't you think?

Gnome, anyone?

So the other day a gnome appeared on our front porch. I have no idea where it came from, but here is a picture of the beaut:




I'm just wondering, what do we do with it now?

Relief!

Folks (if anyone reads this blog), I have an announcement.

I now . . . duh duh duh . . . tentatively have a job! Details pending. I'm waiting for the reality to sink in. Because 2 months and counting, I have been waiting for this moment. And it's hard to believe it's gotten here, because I've already arrived at the point where joblessness becomes both a defining life quality and personal characteristic.

book group

I have a strong desire that has only recently developed. I want to be a part of a book club. It sounds too difficult to start one myself, though (see Oprah's preliminary questions here). I also would like to be a part of a writing group.

My reasons for this? Well, first of all, I want to be motivated to do these things that I love but don't do very much because I'm a lazy dud (or something). Also, I think collaboration of ideas is an enlightening and broadening venture, and what better forum than a semi-formal discussion group where no one is getting grades? It's like your favorite English course without the stress, or something. And maybe you could develop connections with your fellow group-members. As I am often cloistered alone in my apartment (the fate of the jobless?), this sounds appealing to me.

Of course, I don't really know anything about book groups, and I don't know if it would actually be as great as I imagine it to be. I just hope that it is whenever it comes along, because it will come along. And when it does, watch out!

magical

Today I was riding Trax in Salt Lake City. I got to the end of the line. A machinated woman's voice came on saying, "This is the end of the line."

Then in a rather mystical voice, she added, "As far as we go . . ." as if we were coming to the end of a long, arduous, and undoubtedly magical journey.

fourf of fuly

Am I the only one who doesn't really like fireworks? What's the appeal? It's like, you seen them once, you seen them all.

I'm going to admit to you that Tim and I were in Salt Lake on the Fourth and hiked (on the wrong de-trailed side) up Ensign Peak where several people were staking out a prime spot for the upcoming display. But instead of staying ourselves, we hiked back down on the side with a trail.

biker atm

I rode my bike to the drive-up ATM. For an unseasoned biker, this seemed just slightly odd, until another guy on a bike rode up behind me and proceeded to wait.

I want a job.

To get a job, I've decided it is necessary to have friends or family who will get one for you.

Thus, I'm still gainfully unemployed, and still searching. I have enormous amounts of free time, which is super-frustrating after the first four hours or so, but if you want to know what I've been doing with it (at least today), see my married-person blog, "This One's Still Kicking" (The name belongs to Tim).

The light at the end of the tunnel.

Dear readers,

The end of my undergraduate career is in sight. I have 2 hours left of class time and 2 finals to take. Then I'm done. 

What's weird is I'm kind of emotionally numb about this. Shouldn't I be jumping up and down for joy? I think about a week ago I had a sense of nostalgia, thinking that I wouldn't really be a "student" anymore. I've been here for four years now. I'm familiar with it. It is my life.

And on that note, it is my life. So without, I have virtually no life. Job? Thanks, but no. I have applied for several, but nobody seems to be hiring. On that note, I don't even really know what I want to do career-wise. It'd be nice to make more than minimum wage, though (which is my current salary at Orem Public Library--but other than that, it's a great job!) . . . 

I swear I'm worth something. I swear.