Deepest, Darkest

I am uninspired, but am gonna continue in my effort to blog daily (or at my track record: more than monthly.) Tonight I thought I would share 3 strange, weird, disturbing secrets about myself. Here goes:

1. I read the backs of books. Not like the back cover to see if it is readable. I read a few chapters, get really involved, then have to flip to the back to see who lives/loves/did it. I am not proud. It is a huge shout-out to my OCD, instant gratification needing, control freakishness. But I do it, and I like it. So far this is the only thing I do not love about my Kindle...it is extremely difficult to skim the last chapters. Still working this out.

2. I watch trash t.v. I love reality shows like Jerseylicious, Teen Mom, Downsized, and the Bachelor. I appreciate that Parker is old enough to be more interested in history and science shows than cartoons (finally) so we spend many evenings in front of Pawn Stars, Decoded, American Pickers, and Meteorite Men. I am less thankful that recently one of my besties turned me onto Hoarders. In fact I am still haunted by images of rats. Oh, the rats!

Despite my t.v. watching habits, I am a bit of a snob in that I feel better about myself because I don't watch any Housewives, Jersey Shore, or Maury. Not that I judge you for it....I just don't understand.

3. I have a super hard time paying full price for anything (groceries not included.) I am a bargain shopper, and feel like anything I purchase has to be at a significant discount. Because of this I often start shopping for Christmas in January, even though I never finish until December 23rd. I am our family designated hotel booker because I scour for the best deals. Don't even get me started about Black Friday. Let's just say there is a spreadsheet and tote bag full of carefully arranged ads. It's kinda my superbowl.

We all have our quirks. As I read over mine, they don't seem that strange. Because they are mine. What are yours?

Back in My College Days...

I was broke. I lived in a teeny tiny apartment on campus with three other girls, and we were all college poor. My workstudy position paid $230 per month, my part of the rent was $190. And we had a little luxury called electricity. My car was paid for, but gas for the Geo wasn't free. And this was all before we had to buy groceries.

But we were resourceful. My suite-mate and I lived on cereal and ramen. Some months we could even indulge in milk for our Captain Crunch. We figured out how to make a dollar jar of spaghetti sauce last a week. We would each buy a jar (she liked alfredo and I am a marinara girl,) and we would cook a fistful of noodles a day to eat with a few spoonfuls of sauce. This was living. I could go on for hours about our college savings plan....Split orders of fries from the truckstop for dinner, stolen toilet paper from the Garrison (gasp!), and a great friend who fed us weekly from the restraunt he managed. Cooked dinners every now and again were the trade. Because, cooked noodles and sauce is very marketable.

After college ( I call these the student loan reality years,) I was STILL poor. My roommate and I had moved up in the world, and thought we were living large because our ramen upgraded to hamburger helper. That's right. Meat. We were ballin'.

We ate the helper so often, and about 2 years out I swore it off. Done.

Fastforward 10 years. My culinary skills have grown in leaps and bounds. I even manage to cook real meals for my family once or twice a week. Meats, vegetables, soups...real food made from real ingredients.

This is my big setup for what transpired last night...

Brad: "Do you know how to cook Hamburger Helper?"

Me: "Um...yes? But I don't really know if that counts as cooking..."

Brad: "I love Hamburger Helper! Why don't we ever have it?"

Me: "Because I really cook. Like, food. Why would you want that?"

Brad: "Let's have Hamburger Helper tomorrow night! The cheesy kind with........."

I tuned out. I don't get it. I have learned to speak his languages. There is hunting, fishing, the basketball and football talk, random bits of redneckedness that he has amassed. But this was my limit.

I don't think I can speak ground beef soaked in processed cheese powder.

Guess what was for dinner tonight? Guess who decided to just eat bread and salad.