According to my referral logs, the URL of some death metal group has been pointing to my blog for a few weeks now. So, welcome, death metal readers (if you're still reading). I hope you find the talk of wedding dress shopping, egg frying, and the local crime wave sufficiently horrifying.
Someone local may be disturbed by all the egg talk. This morning Oz found egg all over his car. Judging by the splatter pattern, it was either tossed from a passing vehicle or laid in flight by an angry chicken. (Hey, angry chicken, we are using the cage-free eggs nowadays!)
Or it could be coincidence.
Let's find out with more egg talk. I made, oh, three more tamago-yaki on Saturday. One came out pretty, the next came out too dark, and the last came out close to perfect, so I stopped cooking at that point and gave the perfect one to my mom. She had it for breakfast today and then called to tell me it was delicious and ask how to make it. Heh.
Tamago-yaki, the new obsession.
To finish up, here is an atypical swimsuit shopping whine. The elastic in my old suit is disintegrating from chlorine and from age, since it's certainly no younger than eight years old. Time for a new suit, before the butt area gets totally translucent. I'm very sensible about swimsuits: I want a black Speedo suit with a good back. When I buy a swimsuit, it doesn't take any longer than it takes to drive to the sporting goods store. Well, things have changed since 1998! The big store with the huge rack of racing suits and the depressing fitting rooms is gone, replaced by a trendier big store with a climbing wall and a tiny selection of racing suits, none of which were in my size, so I can't report on the fitting rooms. So, as my shopping has trended increasingly since 1998, I came home, got the model number off my old suit, found it on the manufacturer's website, and ordered it online. Hah! Take that, you stupid trendy store with lots of bikinis and almost no suits for people who actually swim! "Sporting goods," indeed.
You know, I'd be perfectly happy to go to a real store and interact with actual human beings. Too bad the real stores don't feel the same way. It's not that I'm an odd size, but stores rarely seem to carry a full range of sizes anymore. I could almost break out some of these cards.
426 words | August 27, 2006 09:42 PM | Because I said