Welcome to the Hotel Nevada...
I am moved! From my awesome suite on third floor Atwood to, well, Nevada suite in Linde. In two short days we made good work transforming the place with the couch throws for my old couch, 409, air freshener, and general *girl taste*. Even got rid of the pile the old nevada crew left for us in the lounge, consisting of porn, speaker wire, NES games (even the duck-hunt gun), and assorted forgotten(?) pieces of feminine clothing. While it isn't the largest, I got the best room because it was both a East-side window (read Linde field = half-naked soccer guys) and a North-side window (read volleyball pit = half-naked volleyball guys). Of course, now we also have perma-guests of some sort of other. It's nice to be useful, but in memory of "Hotel Auld 2000" I'm tempted to rename us Hotel Nevada >.>
At least the company took my attempt at cooking pretty well. We were technically unpacked, but not yet "settled" when I decided to try and cook up dinner. Kept forgetting what I needed, and forgetting where I'd left some of my cooking utensils that I knew I needed. Everyone got fed... though I think the Linde oven is f*ed up, because the pie I tried to bake ended up slightly, uh, charred on top, but fine everywhere else (tell-tale sign of a too-hot oven) as Mel put it: "Well, I can taste the potential". and Henry summarized it... "You know, I think you might be applying engineering principles to cooking... in which margin for human error is inevitable and can only be documented rather than eliminated" (not sure what that hasta do with engineering, but he isn't an engineer so what does HE know ANYWAYS >P ) I'm just rusty, woe-betide the food that I produce while getting back into the swing of things.
... suddenly I remember Wayne scolding me way back when... "I think that's a record Awwie, you just ruined instant ramen"...
I have the feeling I've mentioned this on LJ before... but ever notice how people treat their cars the way they treat their relationships with other people? Take, for example the assorted blonde playthings that come chasing after my wealthy, bachelor neighbor... more than one will be eating pasta at home to afford the payments on a flashy luxury convertible until she can snag a man that'll let her have all that doing nothing at all. (gold-digger syndrome) Or, the guy I dated who modded his car to riduculum and loved parading it around, just as he tried parading *me* around and cared more about what everyone around us thought than what I felt. (trophy-girlfriend syndrome) Similarly is a friend of mine who leased her vehicles, and similarly she would hop around groups of friends every year or so. (here-today, gone-tmw syndrome) Think about it, I'm sure you can see this is others, or in yourself... They say owners reflect their pets--and I hope not, or I'm a fat, lazy, spastic goldfish ._. But I *do* think that I reflect my car to a certain extent. Mebbe that's why I way heart guys with a well-maintained, nice truck... 'cuz if I was a car, that's what I would want to be ^.~*
At least the company took my attempt at cooking pretty well. We were technically unpacked, but not yet "settled" when I decided to try and cook up dinner. Kept forgetting what I needed, and forgetting where I'd left some of my cooking utensils that I knew I needed. Everyone got fed... though I think the Linde oven is f*ed up, because the pie I tried to bake ended up slightly, uh, charred on top, but fine everywhere else (tell-tale sign of a too-hot oven) as Mel put it: "Well, I can taste the potential". and Henry summarized it... "You know, I think you might be applying engineering principles to cooking... in which margin for human error is inevitable and can only be documented rather than eliminated" (not sure what that hasta do with engineering, but he isn't an engineer so what does HE know ANYWAYS >P ) I'm just rusty, woe-betide the food that I produce while getting back into the swing of things.
... suddenly I remember Wayne scolding me way back when... "I think that's a record Awwie, you just ruined instant ramen"...
I have the feeling I've mentioned this on LJ before... but ever notice how people treat their cars the way they treat their relationships with other people? Take, for example the assorted blonde playthings that come chasing after my wealthy, bachelor neighbor... more than one will be eating pasta at home to afford the payments on a flashy luxury convertible until she can snag a man that'll let her have all that doing nothing at all. (gold-digger syndrome) Or, the guy I dated who modded his car to riduculum and loved parading it around, just as he tried parading *me* around and cared more about what everyone around us thought than what I felt. (trophy-girlfriend syndrome) Similarly is a friend of mine who leased her vehicles, and similarly she would hop around groups of friends every year or so. (here-today, gone-tmw syndrome) Think about it, I'm sure you can see this is others, or in yourself... They say owners reflect their pets--and I hope not, or I'm a fat, lazy, spastic goldfish ._. But I *do* think that I reflect my car to a certain extent. Mebbe that's why I way heart guys with a well-maintained, nice truck... 'cuz if I was a car, that's what I would want to be ^.~*