Work and Play
I am in the process of proudly downloading a Jennifer Lopez song. "Play," goddammit! It's a good song! Thank you, Whopper, for providing me with a song from an album I would never personally buy and would never have a friend who bought (who might burn it for me--no, not in a pyre). It only took about five attempts per page to properly load on the BK site; I'm guessing about fifty cookies; two prerequisite downloads of software I don't need, never wanted, and will probably never use again; and about five attempts to actually make the download start to work. So yeah, five-plus hours of effort for the one song.
We have some milk in the fridge that theoretically expired about a month ago, but it's fine! [I don't want to hear any horror stories about how it can kill you anyway, etc.] I did a great deal of good work today, one of the foci of which was to do something with that milk before it goes sour. I made snickerdoodle cookies to drink milk with, and butterscotch pudding. Pudding is so scary these days that you don't even have to heat it; you pour the powder in cold milk and stir for two minutes. Mmm ... extra chemicals.
This reminds me, though: when my jazz choir in high school went on a mountain retreat, we stayed at a kind of rickety old cabin camp used for this kind of thing. Every group was responsible for cleaning up after themselves, bringing their own food and taking it home with them, and when we got there, it was all clean ... except for one full gallon of milk in the refrigerator that was yellow. No, not pale yellow, not yellowish; YELLOW. We screamed when we saw it, mostly with delight. You laughed every time you opened the refrigerator. Part of what made it so wonderful was that no group had been fuddy-duddy enough to throw it away yet, and there must have been many patrons in its time. So sure enough, when it was time to leave, we left the miracle gallon of yellow milk for the next guests to enjoy. I hope it had a long, illustrious career.
We have some milk in the fridge that theoretically expired about a month ago, but it's fine! [I don't want to hear any horror stories about how it can kill you anyway, etc.] I did a great deal of good work today, one of the foci of which was to do something with that milk before it goes sour. I made snickerdoodle cookies to drink milk with, and butterscotch pudding. Pudding is so scary these days that you don't even have to heat it; you pour the powder in cold milk and stir for two minutes. Mmm ... extra chemicals.
This reminds me, though: when my jazz choir in high school went on a mountain retreat, we stayed at a kind of rickety old cabin camp used for this kind of thing. Every group was responsible for cleaning up after themselves, bringing their own food and taking it home with them, and when we got there, it was all clean ... except for one full gallon of milk in the refrigerator that was yellow. No, not pale yellow, not yellowish; YELLOW. We screamed when we saw it, mostly with delight. You laughed every time you opened the refrigerator. Part of what made it so wonderful was that no group had been fuddy-duddy enough to throw it away yet, and there must have been many patrons in its time. So sure enough, when it was time to leave, we left the miracle gallon of yellow milk for the next guests to enjoy. I hope it had a long, illustrious career.