wicked boring update

Truth in advertising.

I had a lot I wanted to get accomplished this weekend, but I think I only hit about 20% of it. And I got no excuse. Yeah, I've got a (minor, only slightly annoying) cold and my skin is being funky again, but really, I've got no excuse except sloth and lack of initiative. But here's a rundown of some things I did do!

I tried out my new crockpot that D gave me for my birthday by making a pot roast. Thumbs up, but I've either got to not cut my vegetables up so much or maybe keep them on top of the meat (contrary to the instructions) because I kinda ended up with potato/onion mush. Oops. I've never had a slow cooker before, so this'll take some experimentation.

I bought my very first Christmas present, which I will not detail in any way, in case the future recipient is reading. But I will say that even though it was an online purchase, there were about two hours of effort involved and all kinds of tabs open and the newspaper being consulted and things and stuff while I figured out exactly what I wanted to do. And I'm still not sure I went exactly the right route. Oh, the pressure, the pressure. Ha!

I've got all my Thanksgiving groceries and, as far as I can tell, I didn't forget anything crucial. We'll see.

I've got my new picture hung in the dining room. So pretty.

And miscellaneous even more boring things like vacuuming, cleaning the bathroom (note: CVS brand cleaning and disinfecting wipes? perhaps they disinfect--I dunno, I didn't have a petri dish handy--but they don't clean), picking up my dad's prescription, Target run, the usual six loads of laundry, blah blah.

And a little more of Brotherhood. I'm not confused about who the characters are now, but I'm still not understanding why some of 'em do the things they do. Not sure if this is good writing with slow subtle character development or piss-poor writing with character development that'll never come. But why is the pol's wife cheating on him with the not-very-attractive mailman in cheap motels and getting high surreptitiously in her own bathroom? Are we supposed to accept it's a midlife crisis and that's that? I dunno. I do know the fake-ass "Rhode Island" accents are killing me. Especially hers. Annabeth Gish, shut up. Oh, and when is sending a girl a severed ear a smart courting move, even if she has reason to be happy about the ear's owner being made to suffer? I think I can speak for most, if not all, of womankind here: flowers good, mutilated bodily appendages not so good.

That's all I got.

xoxo