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August 20, 2004

Omarosa

Last night or early this morning you read about a clock falling on my head. Today I told my boss that a clock fell on my head the night before, only so he would know that there was a broken clock, why it was broken, and that it was an accidental death, not a chronoside.

I was not looking for sympathy from that man, I know better. I would not go so far to say: �he does not care,� you just cannot discount the fact that he is a man. We are not good at sympathy, empathy, or chivalry for that matter. He said, �Oh, does your head hurt?� I was surprised at this question so I responded, �Yeah, it does.� He said, �Oh, quit wining Omarosa! It was just a little clock on the head!� He called me Omarosa the rest of the day and encouraged everyone else to do the same. No one else got the joke so it did not catch on. Thank goodness.

I will get a new clock tomorrow he said, and he promised to make sure it was hung up correctly this time. He was also glad my head was in the way because teachers are easier to replace than the floor.

kicking it up a notch

I can cook. I really can. I am a bachelor; who until just now thought the word was spelled with a �t,� and I live alone. I live alone so I trend towards not cooking extravagant, or even healthy, meals because I am the only one who will eat them. I would also end up eating them for a week via left over food. Any meal that I make is a four-day commitment.

My other handicap is that my father is a chef. Nine times out of ten I will not do as well as he could do. This is unreasonable, but still discouraging. I do not play to come in second, if I do something I want to do it right and better than everyone else would.

This is not an attitude I can have while cooking and have to get over, or I will starve. So, I spent an hour on the phone with the man having him talking me through a French dish he makes which consists of pork, potatoes, carrots, and peas. That is not what is complicated; the complicated part comes from the sauce. It is a white wine sauce made with a rue. Getting the rue right is hard enough but the white wine is harder since it is guess work. You have to gauge how much to put in based on what else is in the dish.

I got the measurements, the timing, everything right. I was pretty proud of myself, but Dad did not answer his phone when I called to inform him that I had accomplished his recipe � something I do not do when something goes wrong.

Is a picture of the food I made. It is better than it looks, like fried green tomatoes the secret is in the sauce.

This is the dish I plan on making for my God Mother�s tentative visit next week. My God Parents are my father�s brother Donald, and his wife, Stella. Visits from family members always include a report to each of my parents. My mother gets a report on the general hospitality, cleanliness of the apartment, and entertainment. My father gets a report on the food, as well as the condition of the kitchen and accouterments therein. I plan to pass this �home health inspection,� as the siblings and I call it, with flying-colors. I do every time.

My God Mother is in the process of acquiring a dozen computers for my school from a school that is getting rid of their computers. This is fortuitous on our part because three of our computers were destroyed during the renovation by painters who felt it would be just as wise to move the table the computers were on with the computers on them instead of removing the computers, moving the table, and replacing the computers after the furniture had been moved.

Stella is also bringing over two boxes of books their library has discarded during a consolidation process. This is the main way my classroom library grows. There are usually more books than I receive discarded but my aunt has the pulse of what kids will and will not read so my library is devoid of books that will just take up space, remaining unread. I do not have this gift, however I have inherited other powers from Stella, you can read about that here as I posted it as a guest entry at Cree Patron.

This generosity means that I feel obligated to go for the gold and make a spectacular dinner. I practiced tonight on myself and think I am ready to present this meal to guests when they arrive, hopefully Wednesday.


�Click my cleavage for Creepatron!�

10:15 PM :: 2 comments so far ::
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