Fermez la Bush
So I'm feeling quite a bit better than I had before
I think mrs. batlin said it best: "that medicine makes me want to crawl out of my skin." That really was the exact feeling. this creepy, crawly, peel-my-skin-off-i'm-covered-in-bugs toe-curling sensation. So I'm a sufficiently rounder melanie, I can see my cheeks whenever I look down.
So I had gone three days without taking the prednisone when I was a little out of sorts, and realized a little too late that it makes me unable to focus and only slightly discombobulated. At that point, I'd rear-ended two people in two days while driving. The first one:
"don't worry about it. It's your lucky day"
The second one:
"You're a very bad girl."
But neither felt it was worth worrying about, so I promptly went home and didn't drive for a while.
Hil-ar-i-ous goings on in genetic lab. I hate drosophila. I had to stamp out a heckuvalot of flies with my eraser once they were strewn akimbo by a renegade CO2 air canisters. And teach didn't understand why I didn't have enough males to make a cross...
Jay is out of the hospital, and back in ohio. I guess that's best for him. I'm trying very hard to keep as detached as possible, it just all seems so strange. I've felt like half a person lately. I didn't realize the extent to which I had based my purpose of being on another person. I'm feeling a bit stronger now, but still just trying to keep myself as busy as possible so I can avoid thinking. I wrote something, but it's a little angry, so It's probably best not to post it. I think that maybe I just don't understand. Yet, I sure as hell get pissed off when I ask about the things of mine that were ruined or missing and he acts exasperated, like a child whose parents have asked him to clean his room.
My dad has new teeth
and dennis quaid came in to eat at imperia yesterday. Apparently he used to eat at kenichi all the time. He seemed really tentative about the firecracker shrimp, but after I explained them fully he started shoving them in his mouth at a ridiculous pace. He kept going outside to smoke, and people would walk by, do a double-take, and then run back screaming: "I loved you in American Dreamz!!!"
puh-lease. the right stuff, motherfuckers.
Anywho, I found chef in the kitchen:
-denny loved everything, by the by
"who?"
-denny. You know? DQ? dennis quaid? I'm calling him that now. He's cool with it.
"what? Dennis Quaid is in the restaurant and nobody told me???"
*pissed-off chef stomps around the kitchen for the rest of the evening.*
man. chefs are touchy people.
or is it cheves?
like leaf and leaves?
maybe not.
Then he and his wife kept going on about how wonderful everything was, thanking everyone, and found chef and thanked him personally. His ego recovered after that.
My stepdad still wants me to hop the next plane to singapore...
And it's nice to be able to visit my mom without feeling guilty about it.
So today I had some leftover sushi from yesterday, so I sauteed it for a light snack as follows:
salmon with chinese five-spice cumin, and sea salt
tuna seared with sesame seeds and togarashi (also called shichimi, very spicy)
snapper with cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, a squeeze of lime, and a light coating of raw cane sugar which caramelized nicely.
delicious.