Is it really that hard?
RIP.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
PORK TAKES FOREVER
Hello friends (AKA SLACKERS. WHERE ARE THE STORIES? WHERE ARE THE GLORIES?? YOU PEOPLE ARE NOTHING BUT A BUNCH OF WHORE-IES. Really, NOTHING to share? FOR SHAME.),
I don't really have any stories either, but I just yelled at yall, so I have to put my money where my mouth is, sotospeak.
I just finished eating a home-cooked meal that took, oh I don't know, 2 EFFING HOURS to prepare. I decided to swing by the local grocery-mart on my way home from work (SIDE NOTE: fridays at the studio, I teach my "Production Class" which is code word for "PUT ON A FULL ENTIRE SHOW." It's at the end of the week, so usually I'm like totally burned out by then; and it's definitely my most challenging class because there are so many kids and it lasts 2 hours, and, oh yes, right, I have to present a fully-birthed show by the end of the sememster. But today, I came in early, I watched the old video of the show back in the day (AND THEN OH MY EFFING GOD I CAME ACROSS "11-YEAR-OLD-HADLEY-AND-13-YEAR-OLD-AMY-PERFORM-THEIR-SOLO-VOCAL-(AND IN HADLEY'S CASE ALSO DANCE)-PIECES-FOR-STAR-POWER-COMPETITION"-AND-OH-MY-GOD-IT-WAS-LIFE-CHANGINGLY-HYSTERICAL.) Ahem. Deep breath. But about Production class: I watched a video of the old-version of the show, learned a whole huge dance number, practiced and practiced and practiced, and entered class utterly prepared. There are about 16 kids in the class ranging in age from 8 to 13. Or at least it USED to range from age 8 to 13. But today, 3--I SAY 3, I SAY ALL 3 of my 13-year-olds--KIDS DROPPED OUT today (after THREE fridays) due to the "childish" [aka: lame, aka: they are wrong] nature of the show. Ok this show is NOT lame. You can ask Hadley who performed it back when she was a wee-thing (I have footage. She is the top. The show is great.) But really, how is it that 13 year olds can STILL manage to make me feel stupid?? I thought that at SOME POINT I would outgrow that. Anyway, to make myself feel better, I decided to swing by the local grocery mart on my way home from a super-annoying day at the grindstone and pick up ingredients for a full fledged dinner. There is nothing more relaxing to me than cooking my face off after a stressful week. I now kind of understand how Hadley feels about vacuum cleaners. Too bad I'm not as much of an expert at cooking as Hadley is at cleaning, as displayed in the fiasco that was cooking my dinner tonight. At the g-store, I got m'self some pork chops, some okrah, some lettuce leaves, some--who am I kidding? Yall don't care. What you SHOULD care about, though, is that TWO HOURS LATER I was still poking my pork with a thermometer watching it eek up to 140 degrees. (Google losers told me that it needed to be at LEAST 155-160 degrees!) FINALLY it reached 152, and I was like whatEVER, living-bacteria-in-pork-that-might-make-me-sick-and-die, I'd rather die of that than STARVATION.
So I ate it. And so far I'm still going strong.
And then my dad walked in and fed our dog clyde in a mere 10 seconds. Life is really not fair.
I don't really have any stories either, but I just yelled at yall, so I have to put my money where my mouth is, sotospeak.
I just finished eating a home-cooked meal that took, oh I don't know, 2 EFFING HOURS to prepare. I decided to swing by the local grocery-mart on my way home from work (SIDE NOTE: fridays at the studio, I teach my "Production Class" which is code word for "PUT ON A FULL ENTIRE SHOW." It's at the end of the week, so usually I'm like totally burned out by then; and it's definitely my most challenging class because there are so many kids and it lasts 2 hours, and, oh yes, right, I have to present a fully-birthed show by the end of the sememster. But today, I came in early, I watched the old video of the show back in the day (AND THEN OH MY EFFING GOD I CAME ACROSS "11-YEAR-OLD-HADLEY-AND-13-YEAR-OLD-AMY-PERFORM-THEIR-SOLO-VOCAL-(AND IN HADLEY'S CASE ALSO DANCE)-PIECES-FOR-STAR-POWER-COMPETITION"-AND-OH-MY-GOD-IT-WAS-LIFE-CHANGINGLY-HYSTERICAL.) Ahem. Deep breath. But about Production class: I watched a video of the old-version of the show, learned a whole huge dance number, practiced and practiced and practiced, and entered class utterly prepared. There are about 16 kids in the class ranging in age from 8 to 13. Or at least it USED to range from age 8 to 13. But today, 3--I SAY 3, I SAY ALL 3 of my 13-year-olds--KIDS DROPPED OUT today (after THREE fridays) due to the "childish" [aka: lame, aka: they are wrong] nature of the show. Ok this show is NOT lame. You can ask Hadley who performed it back when she was a wee-thing (I have footage. She is the top. The show is great.) But really, how is it that 13 year olds can STILL manage to make me feel stupid?? I thought that at SOME POINT I would outgrow that. Anyway, to make myself feel better, I decided to swing by the local grocery mart on my way home from a super-annoying day at the grindstone and pick up ingredients for a full fledged dinner. There is nothing more relaxing to me than cooking my face off after a stressful week. I now kind of understand how Hadley feels about vacuum cleaners. Too bad I'm not as much of an expert at cooking as Hadley is at cleaning, as displayed in the fiasco that was cooking my dinner tonight. At the g-store, I got m'self some pork chops, some okrah, some lettuce leaves, some--who am I kidding? Yall don't care. What you SHOULD care about, though, is that TWO HOURS LATER I was still poking my pork with a thermometer watching it eek up to 140 degrees. (Google losers told me that it needed to be at LEAST 155-160 degrees!) FINALLY it reached 152, and I was like whatEVER, living-bacteria-in-pork-that-might-make-me-sick-and-die, I'd rather die of that than STARVATION.
So I ate it. And so far I'm still going strong.
And then my dad walked in and fed our dog clyde in a mere 10 seconds. Life is really not fair.
BRING IT ON, BLIZZARDDD!!
I was told by my deli man it was going to snow 18 inches tomorrow in Manhattan.
I am told by Al Roker we can expect no more than 4 inches.
PLEASE, LORD JESUS GIVE ME A BLIZZARD.
I love weekend blizzards.
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