That Tater Had A Death Wish

Just some randomness.

My friend Mdme was telling me about preparing Easter dinner at her mom's house. She said all went well except for the sweet potatoes. She had to move them from one oven to another and this one sweet potato rolled off the pan onto the floor. Whatever, she said, she'd eat that one. So she put it back on the tray. Later she realized the taters weren't cooking as fast as she thought, dinner was approaching, so she and her sister-in-law decided to nuke them. Now, she had transferred them to another tray, one with a higher rim, and still a potato took the leap. The same potato. Only this time it bounced off the oven door, rolled back inside beneath the bottom rack, right up against one of the heat rings, and caught on fire. Yep, that tater had a death wish. She said it was actually quite good.

We had storms off and on all weekend. Last night there were seriously strong winds. Sometime during the night this big tall pine tree fell across the parking lot into the courtyard my apartment is at. It managed not to hit or do damage to anything. My roommate Mark and I got my friend Miss Montez's scooter, put it under the tree, then woke her up. She freaked out maybe all of five seconds before remembering she didn't park anywhere near there. We got called some choice names and are grounded. Grounded from what I don't know.

Speaking of Mark... he finally discovered the cause of the extreme itching he's been suffering the last few months. It was his moisturizing bodywash. Apparently he was having a bad reaction to some ingredient. Back to Ivory soap for him.

At least he's not allergic to water. I knew a damn hippy who isn't exactly allergic to soap and water as the saying goes, but he is allergic to flouride which gets put into the water. He used to bathe very very little until he found a water purifier that would remove flouride and had it installed in his shower. He's much more pleasant to be around now although he does still reek of patchouli.

At a group home where I used to live if any of us smelled like patchouli we got in a lot of trouble even if we hadn't burned one down. This one guy had a thing for this girl that wore a perfume that had a lot of patchouli in it. We came back from the movies and he smelled like patchouli from hooking up with her out in the parking lot and he got put on restriction for a month. The girl dumped him because she heard he'd gotten in trouble for smoking pot.

My girlfriend is getting her college degree next month. Now maybe when she goes for job interviews she won't hear how she's perfect for the job and has all the qualifications except they were really looking for someone with a degree. Her goal is to find a five day a week job that pays almost as much as Miss Montez makes hostessing at a fancy shmancy restaurant. [You would not believe how much Miss M makes. It makes you want to quit your day job and learn to placate idiots.]

My hope is that once Shan graduates we'll maybe possibly see each other a little more. Of course that's what we hoped when we moved in together and that hasn't exactly happened thanks to her deciding to take every course possible so she could go ahead and graduate, and working six nights a week to pay for it. Blame me too, I'm now working lunch shift for awhile to make extra money so I can beef up our savings and maybe she won't have to work so much while looking for something that's a career and not just a job. But it means I'm out of the apartment every morning by 5:30.

In good news, a person in a novel I write in at at panhistoria.com finally got their post up so we can progress in the storyline. They've had a lot going on. At last I'll get to kill someone with my character. It's been a joke since I joined that novel that I would find some way some how to kill some one.