Tuesday, August 22, 2006

dig it: a non-law related post!

I cooked lunch for some friends this afternoon. I mean, it was great - chocolate cake, cheesy potatoes, and grilled chicken. (I'm listing the menu in order of importance, of course.)

In the midst of my gourmet extravaganza, I forgot that my oven is only about fifteen inches wide. So I go to get the casserole dish out of the oven and bang my arm against the side of the oven (that's been sitting at 400 degrees for about an hour and a half).

(long string of expletives deleted)

I now have a blister on my arm that's about an inch long and half an inch wide...the scar itself is even bigger. This is going to make for good stories for many years to come. I'd post the picture, but it's not exactly "good" - you can see that there's some serious discoloration (honestly, it looks like a giant snot rocket on my arm), but that's about it.

In the meantime, I can't wait until I can one day own my own home, so that I can have a kitchen that's large enough for someone to cook in...with an oven that actually fits a normal-sized pan. That would make me happy. (Side note: I think "kitchen large enough to cook in" would be above "maid" on the wish-list, but below "dishwasher" and "TiVO".)

Of course, if I didn't enjoy cooking, I wouldn't hurt myself doing it - because it's always the things we love the most that also hurt us the most, isn't it? The sad thing, I guess, is that I only choose to leave myself vulnerable to my stove/oven rather than members of the opposite sex. But that's another discussion for another time.

Or maybe the saddest part of the whole ordeal is that I put off going to get the requisite Neosporin and Band-Aids large enough to cover the blister until tomorrow, so that I could combine that trip to Target with my trip to Target to purchase the second season of "House" on DVD. I'll keep telling myself that it's to conserve gas and save the environment, but we all know the truth: I'm just that lazy.

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At 8:07 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oven burns are the worst. My last one from the broiler element took forever to heal. I can still see the mark...right next to where I accidently stuck a scissors into my hand.

At 5:28 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I just stumbled upon your blog and, prior to commenting, I shall qualify that:
a) I'm a guy, born, raised and living in California,
b) I generally eschew blogs as a waste of my time,
c) I am reading: We're Just Like You, Only Prettier, by Celia Rivenbark and,
d) everybody has always told me that I should be a professional writer.
That said, my comment:
You are quite hilarious and attractively witty. I have bookmarked your blogsite and intend to check it every morning. The hell with law school, you should be writing books and being a guest on Letterman and other such hosted shows.


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