Monday, November 21, 2011

Seven things

Let it be known that just because I have been a blog slacker does not mean that I have failed to be mighty. Last week featured (in chronological order): total exhaustion, Italian class, dinner with a stranger (including a delicious sidecar), The Civil Wars at the Fillmore with a woman I'd only met once before (Dear Fillmore, I don't think it would be so very terrible if you let us sit down. Still, thanks for the poster. Dear Civil Wars, Damn. Is it reasonable to be so talented and so good looking at the same time?), catching a cold and failing to go to Caught in Motion's CD release concert, and my much beloved Nice Guy Trio at Viracocha. Ta da!

Nevertheless, I know I owe you Lessons from Camp. I've not forgotten. Domani e un altro giorno.

For now though, lessons from today.
1) The key to not watching TV all night is to not turn it on. I know this sounds elementary, but it I am having a small lightbulb moment. Once I turn on the streaming what have you, I am unlikely to turn it off, but having not turned it on upon entering the house, I have instead done some dishes, made a proper meal featuring Brussels sprouts and sweet potatoes (a previously unimaginable extravaganza of healthfulness for which I am feeling rather pleased with myself), and I'm here--not leaving you all lonely and abandoned in the dreaded blogosphere.

2) Knowing the temperature that baked chicken is done has changed my life. Gone are the days of guesswork and exploratory slicing. For your records, the magic number is 165 degrees Farenheit. The thermometer makes dainty holes compared to the knife.

3) Brussels sprouts and sweet potatoes needn't be disgusting. I know. It surprised me too.

4) While it is profoundly dispiriting to be able to hear one's new neighbors talking through the walls (perhaps the former neighbors never spoke to each other? Perhaps they had softer voices?) I find it less upsetting because they are speaking French. I am officially ridiculous. Ou, si vous voulez, je suis officialement ridicule.

4b) While it is profoundly dispiriting to be informed that one of one's new neighbors is pregnant, I find it less upsetting because she is French. Je continue d'etre officialement ridicule.

5) Yesterday, I said, "I can say almost nothing; I'm in Italian Two" in Italian to an Italian. He seemed favorably impressed. Upon reflection, that doesn't really count as a lesson so much as showing off. Sorry about that.

6) If you sleep through your alarm, you will be late to work, but rested.

7) My back hurts rather a lot. Also not a lesson, just something that is becoming increasingly clear as I sit here. Or perhaps it is a lesson after all. Now hear this: do not be twisty in your sleep. You will regret it, even if you do have the benefit of accidentally sleeping an extra hour.