metro rides again…

I have newfound respect for metro as it has gotten me to and from Jenifer’s place twice now, on schedule per their Trip Planner, yesterday I even arrived early. Admittedly it was about 40 mins all told from train to bus to walking, but it was a lot cheaper than the $13 cab ride I took from her place home once.

I was mainly worried about the strawberries I bought yesterday at they were in the sun, then in a/c, then sun again, then fridge, heat, etc until I got back home, but they survived and my wealth of cookbooks provided a good solution at keeping them fresh in the fridge while trying to reduce mold and spoilage. I have a recipe for strawberry cheesecake ice cream that I want to try soon. Much as I love strawberries, there isn’t too much one can do with them aside from make sweets and desserts. Maybe slice one or two over cereal but that’s about it. So maybe next Tues I’ll pass on the berries. At this point in the season, all they can really offer is strawberries and herbs/plants, and I don’t have much luck making things grow in my apartment.

But she’s doing well and we went for Thai which was good but not terribly remarkable. I often wonder what the point of Asian restaurants is when, by the nature of our culture, their offerings are no more diverse from one to another than McDonalds. I’d love to see more “signature dishes” on the menus so I’d feel urged to visit one over another instead of already knowing that the menu will pretty much be the same from place to place regardless how pretty the inside looks.

Last night I attacked the kitchen armed with cleaning products and it’s much more sparkly. I still have to do the divorce of stuff. I know when I brought you home I said that I’d love you forever, but I need to move on, you’re weighing me down, I feel walled in. Please tell me you understand, it’s nothing personal… but I need space. My kitchen’s horribly cramped for space, and I’m an appliance queen, so there’s a rotation schedule with everything aside from the mixer, the microwave (thank you Michael) and the breadmaker. I haven’t even attempted anything like a pie crust since moving in, but it’s getting hot and that means pie. *mmmm, pie* Something about warm weather and I turn into Aunt Bea.. fresh lemonade and apple pies.

My apartment will be clean, one room at a time.

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