Wednesday, November 8, 2006

pitter patter goes my heart

So it is raining. Again. Only, you cannot see it is raining because it is utterly dark outside. AT FIVE PM. So here i am inside, trying not to focus on this shitty feeling that comes for no other reason than to accompany the clouds and to piss me off, eating this:

By the time this picture was taken, downloaded then uploaded, I had finished the entire bag. Which i got this morning. There were also a bag of candies, and a box of pastries. The evidences of such however were carelessly discarded in the rubbish bin before i realized 'Oi! i have a new swanky camera now to document every moment of my waking day!'. I know, i can hear the moans of disappointment from here. I apologise. They were very good though, but after which i needed something salty. And tadah! That's how you keep on eating for hours on end - by switching sweets & salty alternatively.

Another thing that can help keep oneself lethargic in front of the tube eating everything one owns:

Also known as Curtis Stone and my future husband.

Y'see, i humbly admit i was never the girl who dreamt of marrying a nice doctor or a prince (nor have i actually ever dreamt of marriage per se, but that's just a small detail). I didn't have wild fantasies about fire fighters either, paramedics, nor police officers, cowboys, monks, lawers, the postman, dentists, so on & so forth. No. What i fancy was/is The Cook. Any time. Any day. Yessery Bob. He can look like he had perhaps inhaled the totality of the Mars gaseous elements, but my gosh as long as he can make a mean sexy chocolate soufflé, he can do with me as he pleases. As long as i get to eat said soufflé. So imagine my joy when The wonderful Learning Chanel introduced a show featuring a hunky Aussie who goes into a siupermahket, pick ep a wee lass, bring 'er beck haome & cuk far 'er (yes, that was a taste of my most excellent accent, thank you).

'Fucking genius!', that's what i said, incredulously. It's like they had found my childhood diary & made it into a reality! Here are just some examples of what Monsieur Stone can whip up:

Grilled rib eye steak with semi-dried tomatoes, watercress & crispy potatoes.
(or as i like to call 'Humma-na Humma-na Haa...')

Cajun crusted chicken with creole mashed potatoes.
('Oh yes please! Right here!')

Marinated & grilled bison rib eye with pasilla salsa.
('Ouh! Ouh! Me! Ove here!')

Salad with deep fried manchego cheese & madiera reduction
([gawk - as have lost all words & consciousness])

But can he bake, you ask? Ohhh! Oho-ho hohoh....

Chocolate covered mango & vanilla cream bomb.

Aussie cheesecake.
(as if having permanent sunshine, fairweather & the incredible ocean at their finrgertips wasn't enough...)

Sautéed baby bananas with sour cream, spearmint, chili & lime.
(YESSSS! I know! it sounds awfully weird at first, but as one who completely LOVES cooked bananas AND spicy foods, this just seems like le-perfect!)

(and la pièce de résistance...)

*wipes off trail of saliva*

And he made this, can you imagine? With his own bare hands! FROM SCRATCH! *hands over heart* Mumsie, i think i'm in love!....

**Next up: Things To Do To Cheer Yourself Up From The [light*] Blues.**

* Because we all know that the Heavy Blues can only be cured with massive amounts of drugs and/or a gun.


Anonymous said...

gawd! i wish i could eat a bag of pretzles, pastries, and the like and be as hot as u. i'm a blimp right now. i think i'll eat some more indian food to comfort myself. it's a vicious cycle. called my life.

sorry, feeling kind of blue myself. blues are to be expected, according to one of lcsw friends, after such an intense experience as the habitat trip where there's so much bonding and connection. especially if one returns to an environment that doesn't include strong relationships. i have some of those, but i still feel blue. loser. need some retail therapy. but i gave all my cash to habitat...


Pomgirl said...

I like the look of your future husband very much. Imagine all the delicious food at your wedding! Mmm. I never imagined growing up and getting married, but if I'd have been one of those girls with a 'game plan' I would have snagged myself a chef. And been fat. But happy!

Looking forward to all those 'essential' photos you will now be taking. How do you cope without a cat? When I got my new camera that's all I took photos of. Sad. Sad. Sad.

p.s. I may be biased but Aussie men are a wee bit special ;)


vapidly vibrant said...

Arb, the way i figured (and according to my keen observations), i can [luckily] eat as much as my stomach can contain without ripping, and not be too concerned about how i may fit through a door until about the age of 30 - that's when the women in my family start to be 'normal'. Eh, but as long as i'm healthy *fingers cross*, it'll be hard to seperate me from a good'ol bag o'chips! Especially in times like these ;)) (I too went down into a not-so-pleasant path after my Euro trip. Hope you do feel better though.)

Miss Pom, if i had a cat, the only pics i'll be able to take will be those of it being thrown to the curb. Or complete blurs, as my terrible allergies have caused my eyes to swell in such a size that i become partially blind (yes, this hate is reasonable ;)).
p.s.: i suspect it's something in the water. Or the beer.

arb® said...

feeling better. but what's sposed to help is focusing on what i'm going to do next...go to sleep.