waxing incoherent

Lunch did not like me today.

I stopped by TJs for some coffee, wine, edamame and greeting cards (aka my weekly grocery list) and picked up a steak wrap and some Miso noodles for lunch. The plan was to have one or the other. Not both.

The wrap was just fine until I got two bites in and found myself with a mouth-full of steak fat (and if anyone comments “that’s what she said!” I will eat your face.)


So I moved onto the miso in an attempt to cleanse my pallet of all the unpleasantness. But apparently microwaving a box of wet noodles is entirely beyond my level of intelligence because the result was too-soft noodles and a soup “contents” that didn’t want to dissolve and separate.

Uncool. I want those 600 calories back, man.


It is supposed to rain torrents all weekend long, which is great for the garden, but bad for moi, who has 11 miles on the agenda for tomorrow. I don’t so much mind running in the rain, but if it gets all ick-windy I will not be able to cope with that.

Plus I’m feeling a bit neurotic again. My legs were sore all day yesterday. Not from the 10 miler I did on Saturday; but the THREE miler I did on Wednesday. I just don’t get me.

So I’m hoping tomorrow they will cooperate. Your kind thoughts (or whispered curses) would be greatly appreciated.

Appropriately, my soundtrack for the day was a steady stream of early 80s goth (you know, before emo ruined it). It’s the perfect kind of weather for that crap. Give me Gene Loves Jezebel or give me death.

After dinner we watched the remake of the Last House on the Left, and it was -spoiler alert!- predictable.

I hate how they always make the victims in movies all weak and pathetic, and the bad guys always have some kind of ridiculous super-human strength. You crack them in the noggin several dozen times and stab them with a fireplace poker (happened) and they hop up and break a table over your head (also happened).

So there’s that.

And then, I’m sorry because this is going to sound crass (but you should know me well enough by now…) — the attackers in the movie were just way too good-looking to be convincing. Yeah. What kind of sick bastard casting director picks a hottie for the rapist?? Really. Villians should not be daytime A&F models, okay? I should probably qualify that by saying that sociopaths can be good-looking. (Hello, Patrick Bateman.) Hell, there probably are some A&F models who are sociopaths. But you’re average drifter-rapist? Nuh-uh. They could have at least given the dudes some prominent scarring or tattoos. But nooo.

Oh, and then just when you think (more spoilage) Dad is about to exact some kind of intricate and awesome revenge upon the evil bastard who nearly murders his daughter? Blows the dude’s head up in a microwave. I’m not kidding. Exploding heads notwithstanding, it was just…silly.

It’s like, they’re were running out of time on the last day of filming and go “oh, crap. How do we kill this guy? I don’t care. Ummmm. How about the microwave? Sure, those things don’t technically work unless the door is closed but screw it! That’s lunch!”

Luckily, there were copious amounts of blood and gore — still not quite enough to make up for the utterly lame and ridicuballs ending, but at least there were a few gleeful, “AWW NAH!” moments between my hubby and I. And, isn’t that what date night is all about?

Here’s dinner.

Yeah, there was also some pasta but it didn’t look as pretty as the butternut/basil so you don’t get to see it. (That pic is before I roasted it, by the way. 30 minutes at 350°. Done) I’m not a food blogger anyway; I’m a lush runner who like to eat and also dabbles in photography. But, that tag line wasn’t quite as catchy.

Also that wine. Was really good. I high recommend. Picton Bay Marlborough Pinot Noir. 2009

I guess I shouldn’t be blathering on and drinking when I have to do important things tomorrow.

Peace –


3 thoughts on “waxing incoherent

  1. I think that’s why I’m not the biggest fan of steak- the random fat chunks. I can’t handle it. I’m also one of those people who will cut of every random piece of fat on the chicken breast before I use it. It’s not that I’m scared of the fat content, it’s because chewing on it makes me want to throw up a little in my mouth. Blah…

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