if it's not one thing, it's another

I'm being a real whiny-butt this month. I got past the killer headache, but now my neck is hurting all the way down my right arm. I bought a new pillow today to see if that would help. It's at least the third new pillow I've had in a year because I can't seem to find one that is comfortable. Most of the pillows I see in the stores are too fluffy so I bought a cheap one thinking that the fluffy wouldn't last long. Despite my reputation as a tightwad, I didn't get the cheapest pillow available. I spent an extra $7.99 to get the non-allergenic one because my allergies are acting out this week.

I think the headache, stiff neck, foot pain, stuffy nose, and general ennui are due to work. I like to blame all my troubles on work. I believe that I wasn't meant to labor like commoners. I should be lying on a feather bed somewhere having my every wish attended to before I even ask.

I must have been Cleopatra in a former life. Or maybe Marie Antoinette - that would explain the pain in the neck.

Boil and Bubble

I just finished eating dinner. I had blackened salmon patties. The recipe said to cook them until golden brown then gently flip them over and repeat on the other side. Sounds simple, doesn't it?

Mine went straight from raw to black, skipping the golden brown stage entirely. I flipped them over quickly, not gently, but the crust held them together so that I could blacken the other side.

They didn't taste burn; they were actually quite good. I think the whole grain bread I used as bread crumbs gave the patties a hearty flavor without overwhelming the salmon. I credit the bread for the crunchy crust while I blame it for the dark color.

With the salmon patties, I had corn on the cob and carrots in balsamic vinegar. Do you want to know about the smoke alarm? If you've read my cooking exploits on this blog before, you know if I'm cooking, my smoke alarm is blaring.

With the salmon patties, I had corn on the cob, and carrots in balsamic vinegar. I boiled the corn in a kettle without a lid. I stood there watching the corn steam and the carrots boil and the salmon blackened, and marveled that the kitchen siren was silent. That's when it went off.

When I say I can't boil water without setting off the fire alarm, I really mean it.

Where's Julie?

Josh asked me if I had played Scrabble lately. I know why he asked. He misses Julie. You remember Julie? Long legs, flowing blond hair, a smile that starts in her deep blue eyes and ends in a laugh that makes angels jealous. Yeah, that Julie.

Well, I haven't played Scrabble with Julie lately because Julie's somewhere in Europe, but not the usual tourist haunts like Paris, Madrid, or Rome. I've been getting postcards from obscure, picturesque little villages with hard to pronounce names like Kuressare (I think it's in Estonia) and Tarifa (in Spain) which is famous for it's windsurfing.

I think this week she's somewhere in the south of France, or maybe Greece. Somewhere strolling along a Mediterranean beach. Picnicking on fine wines, mellow cheeses, and hearty artisan breads. Lounging on the deck of some Greek god's yacht. Exploring centuries old architectural gems. And when time allows, working on her tan, her all over tan, if you know what I mean.

Ya can't please everyone

I have to say it. Those guys singing the parody of Rick Nelson's Garden Party for Appleby's should be ashamed of themselves. I know he's spinning in his grave everytime that commercial plays.

The Anvil Chorus

I have had a stiff neck and a bad headache all week and it's wearing me out. I'm complaining about it today because it feels like someone is trying to remove the top third of my skull with a pair of vise grips and if any more pressure is applied, my left eye is going to pop out of its socket and go bouncing across the floor.

In case you're wondering about the difference between a "bad" headache and a "good" one ... two aspirin or a cup of tea can cure a good headache, but there is nothing that takes care of the bad headache. Not even a chocolate chip cookie.