We Need to Talk

We need to talk.  You know how I originally said this was a space for information on cooking, recipes, and crap like that?  Turns out I was wrong.  I'm not sure I've ever publicly ((wow, major typo just caught... the "L" is important in that word)) admitted I was wrong before.  Well, maybe once before, but I might be wrong about that in which case that makes this the second time I have publicly admitted wrongdoing.  Or the third?  Or maybe less.  I don't know.  Math is super hard.

Back to the point... While I still cook quite a bit, I found myself in a position where I was coming up with things to make just to have something to put in this space.  While that was fun for several months, as with many things, it can become an obligation and an obligation can become something that lacks fun-ness.  I have always said that I started doing this because it is fun and I *want* to.  But then, I started to kind of feel like I *had* too, which I know is bullshit, but then some commenter says, "What, did you run out of ideas?"  Then someone else told me I wasn't funny anymore ((do you know how hard it is to make a turkey burger funny?)) and commence Jules going on strike because that is certainly the best way to counter that idea.  Counterproductivity for the win!

I also read a lot of cooking/recipe blogs and Jesus H. Christ, some of them are the drollest things I've ever seen.  I swear to carbs, if I see one more picture of some fucking overnight oats that are the Best! Thing! Ever! I am going to hurl chia seeds through the internet into that asshole's eyeball.  I don't want to be that person.  On either end.

((No, I'm not breaking up with you all.  Relax.))

Anyway, FROM NOW ON, ((and that was in all caps so you know it is important)) we are going to talk about whatever the hell we ((I'm not sure who "we" is, probably the Royal We)) want to.  If you know me In Real Life or via Facebook or Twitter, you are aware that a LOT of really bizarre shit happens to me and around me.  We will still cook stuff sometimes.  ((Read as:  We will still cook stuff and screw it up and try to figure out how to fix it.))  But we will also talk about the time I took a javelina named Javier to a book signing while I was wearing a red satin gown and how my picture got blasted to 258,152 people because THAT JUST HAPPENED and then even more awesomeness unfolded.

Trust me.  I can explain.

Explanation ((or the best one I can muster which honestly isn't all that good)) will be forthcoming.  Thanks for playing and I'm serious, I'm not breaking up with you.

This Isn't a Real Post

Well, I suppose technically it is, but it probably isn't going to say anything of value so feel free to move on if you aren't in the mood for my stream of consciousness musings...  I know.  Let's make a list.  Lists are fun.

So what's new?

• I'm doing a wedding reception for approximately 50 on Saturday evening.  It is being served outside and I'm praying it isn't a hundred million degrees.  I need to finish the shopping lists and get that accomplished tomorrow because Friday and Saturday we will be cooking All Day Long.  Thank God I have help for this one. 
• I got my first real paycheck from one of the freelance writing gigs I've been doing.  I might have screamed, "HOW FUN IS THAT?" when I got the PayPal alert.  I still can't get over the the fact that someone will pay me actual money to spew my nonsense.  That's ridiculous.
• On a related note, apparently I am very good at something called "Sentence Spinning" which is totally ironic because until three days ago I had never even heard of it.  In fact, they want me to write a piece on how to do it for the other contributors.   
• I'm supposed to be writing an article right now ((like literally right now)) on financial planning and consulting which is pretty hilarious.  I don't think the advice should be "keep cash in a safety deposit box and forget you have said box for three years until you go to close it."  I don't think this will be my best or most informative work.   
• I think I just accidentally had salt and vinegar chips for dinner. 
• I have clicked through the photos of Bethenny's 5 million dollar apartment in NYC about a thousand and seventy-two times.  I think I have found my version of pornography: home decor in general and closets/dressing suites in particular.  Holy shit.  
• Oh and I'm working on a book proposal...   

I told you this was useless reading.  Oh well.  Time to get back at it.  It's going to be a late night...

Mohawks, Tip #37 on How to Be a Grown-Up, and Right-Brainedness

I had planned to share a very unique salad recipe today that I came across and literally yelled, "BRILLIANT!" followed by a string of "Oh my God, what didn't I think of that?!"  and "They should call that the Jules Salad!"  ((I do realize that if my house is wired by someone conducting surveillance on me, they have decided I am certifiable after all the nonsense I spew and the long discussions I have with my pets in which I may or may not conduct one-sided conversations as if I hear them replying.  That also explains why Foster Kitty, who is, well, my foster kitty, currently has a mohawk.  He lost a bet.  Yes, I know I'm weird.  But you now what?  I am never, ever bored.  So there.))

The salad sharing is unfortunately not going to happen due to a major technical difficulty... That being the complete and utter meltdown of my car's electronic system.  That sounds bad enough right?  Add in that it is a hybrid and you have a total disaster on your hands.  I was innocently driving down the freeway at about 70 mph when all of a sudden the dashboard lit up like the Vegas Strip.  It was still running fine, so I tried to brush it off as a fluke.  When I left to head back out, the lights were off and I congratulated the car on its self-healing ability.  Ten minutes later, the display lights back up, alarms were going off, the power steering went out, the ABS braking thing went haywire, and the a/c melted down.  Oh and it kept shifting itself into neutral and couldn't be brought out.  The display had a Mr. Yuck face where the computer usually is.  I will go ahead and add that this happened during the noon rush in the middle of ((arguably)) one of the busiest intersections in Phoenix.   I'll take 5 mgs of Xanax for $200, Alec.

I called the dealership and the service guy says, "That sounds bad.  Real bad."  He then insisted I not drive the car the mere four blocks to the dealership, but you can guess how that turned out.  At this point, I am, of course, envisioning a repair bill with four digits and praying the first of those digits is 1.  Well, it turns out that when Toyota sends you mail that says "Recall" that you should probably open it.  We shall call that tip #37 on how to be a grown-up.  Luckily, I lived, the repairs were all covered by the recall, and I got a rental car for free that had four miles on it.  Accordingly, I drove it all over town and through a dust storm to celebrate.

ANYWAY, long rant about stupid car problems aside, I'm hoping for a low-key weekend with some new recipes for you.  I've been on a creative tear lately: doing some web design, cooking, writing, writing, writing, working on packaging designs...  I'll be back tomorrow with what we are now going to call The Jules Salad.

*****

PS.  I got a comment on yesterday's post that someone had tried to check out the blog from their work computer and it was flagged as "inappropriate content."  I find that to be so completely hilarious that I shall have a Zima to celebrate.