Okay, okay...so that last one happened during an expecially drama-filled week. We won't be having any more of that.
Bringing it back to this side of "mentally competent"...
THINGS I DID SINCE THEN:
I made cupcakes and they sort of sucked. But trying a new recipe is a positive thing, right?
Actually, speaking of new recipes, I also made all of these, and they were all 3 BANGIN' (as the kids say):
http://annies-eats.net/2010/02/15/chicken-enchiladas/ (followed the directions to the letter...a rarity for me!)
http://www.realsimple.com/food-recipes/browse-all-recipes/chicken-cacciatore-10000001536187/index.html (Mostly followed the directions on this one, too!)
http://smittenkitchen.com/2008/12/sausage-stuffed-potatoes-a-green-salad/ (did not include the anchovie paste...just...could...not.)
I cleaned the hell out of the inside of my car. I can't stand clutter in there, I feel like I'm driving a dumpster. And there was some sort of funk/stank occurring. I still don't know where it came from. It still lingers a bit.
I went...TO A RODEO. Yeehaw, y'all!
I did some homework.
I rearranged all the furniture in my tiny-ass living room so I can walk in the front door without feeling like I'm in an episode of "Wipeout."
I survived the Great Office Move of 2011.
I bought a new refrigerator. Ask me later what it's like to wake up on a holiday and go, "Oh, shit...I think the freezer's dead..."
I started seeing butterflies in the garden! Yay! They're only little Cabbage Whites, but its something, right? Also, I spotted a large dark one in the backyard. I said, "No dummy, you're in the wrong yard! All the food is up front! Just go over the house, and look down...ya can't miss it." He didn't listen to me. Or maybe he was a she, and she is anorexic. I wonder if animals can have body image issues.
I saw fireworks. I also saw some crispy old "Jersey Girls." I would like to go around to salons and educate stylists on the importance of talking their clients out of perms.
I Skyped for the very first time. In order to avoid having to drive into the city to meet with my academic advisor. I also revamped my resume for the first time in a million years. Its 3 pages, and apparently, that is perfectly acceptable. I really hate the idea of selling myself for field placement. I won't even get paid for it. Its like being a prostitute for free. Which basically means I'm a loose woman, because in the words of Salt 'N Pepa, "The difference between a hooker and a ho ain't nothing but a fee."
Something else I learned from the 90s..."Never trust a big butt and a smile." Bel Biv DeVoe...I got you.