The Disjointed Thoughts of a Writer

   I made the worst fudge earlier.  See, when I went to PCC, I worked in the bakery and loved my job.  We used to make fudge, but it was a quick kind and was ready in less than a half hour.  I found a recipe in Ginny's cookbook for five-minute fudge.  It called for chocolate pieces, but I figured I could substitute cocoa powder.  First mistake.  It also called for evaporated milk.  I had sweetened condensced.  Second mistake.  I also jumped the gun and put the cocoa in before giving the milk, sugar, and salt time to simmer.  Mistake number three.

   To make a long story short, I ended up melting almost half of the plastic spatula (which, of course, I didn't notice till I was pouring my concoction in the dish).  So after if firmed, I cut myself a slice and was content w/ pulling out the many slivers of platic.  Until I tasted it, that is.  Yyuuuuck!  Grainy and all-around nasty.  Ick, ick, ick!  From now on, I'll follow the recipe book to the "t"!

   So as I was typing all that, I looked over at Jill.  She had a mouth full of something, and when I looked, I saw the deep finger marks in the butter.  I could help laughing, and it was my fault.  I left it there in the open, ready for butter-lovers everywhere to take a sample. :D

   I'm excited.  I had no idea what to do w/ the chicken in our fridge.  But I went to allrecipes.com (thank you, Sarah, for this lifesaving website), and found what I think will be a great recipe.  Yippee!  Oh, and I'm also touched.  Contrary to what you may believe, I'm not a bad cook (though I've had my share of failed experiments, let me tell you).  But Jon (out of the blue, too) told me that my cooking has improved.  *grins*  But seriously, I've done most of the cooking since we moved here, so I should hope so.  He always did most of it before.  Though it's still not one of my favorite things.  Maybe I'll be lucky and have a child who enjoys to cook. *crosses fingers*

   Oh, yeah, and I just rewrote my bio.  I think it's the best so far.  Short and to the point.  I hated my first one and my second was weird.  Maybe I'll make a friend; I read someone else's journal and commented a bunch.

   I keep waiting for this kid to move, and he (or she) just doesn't want to!  It wasn't till well into my fifth month w/ Jill that I felt her move, but I've heard you can feel the second one sooner.  C'mon kid, start kicking!

   Sorry for all the rambling.  Y'all have a great night!

   Though why I'm drinking it is beyond me.  I'll need to get up at 2am.  I'm not even four months along and you can barely tell I'm pregnant (and only if you look), but this little tiny person is jumping on my bladder.  Get off, I tell you!  It's not a trampoline!!

   There.  Now that that's settled.  We went to Berwick today.  It's in Maine, and about a half hour from Kittery.  It was okay, but we liked Somersworth and Rochester/Dover better.  Berwick didn't have much class, but if it's cheaper, we'll live there.

   I've been the worst poster lately.  It's like a roller coaster.  On the way up, it's a miracle I write at all.  But then I get to the top and on the way down, I write so much I bore even me.  <sigh>

   Really, I don't have much to say.  It's almost an hour past my bedtime, and if I keep this up, I'll make New Year's.  Whoopee.  Maybe I'm getting old, but c'mon, it's just another day.  Another year has passed, but it all seems kind of pointless to me.  Unless, of course, people decide they want to send my presents to celebrate the new year.  In which case, I will make the sacrifice and stay up till the magical hour of midnight.  I might even curl my hair.

   Speaking of presents, Jason's was late, but I ordered it and had it sent off.  I got it today.  How dumb am I?  I had it sent here!  But at least it's a gift cad--it'll just cost me a stamp to get it to him.  Grrr.  Definitely a blond moment.

   Speaking of blond moments, I want to clear up confusion for the whole human race.  My hair is blond, but it's dirty blond.  It is not brown; I am not a brunette.  It has always been blond.  Maybe you people think I just want to be blond.  Nope.  I am.  And have you heard the jokes?  As much as I love them (cuz they are funny), would I put myself at the needless expense of these jokes if I didn't come by the color naturally?  I mean, c'mon people!

   Really, my brain is screaming at me to stop thinking (cuz it's not really working--the connections to my fingers keep short-circuting).  So good night people!

   Okay.  I guess I'm a glutton for punishment.  I don't want to go to bed.  I think I'll go redo my profile.