duck-shaped pain

Where I Am Not Swayed By The Promise of a Funnel Cake

Note to self: Just because I can, technically (due to free will and all) put anything in soup, doesn't mean that I should. Pumpkin soup is a good idea. Curried pumpkin soup is an even better one. Adding mushrooms and lentils to it is too much.

This is especially true when the lentils only get half-done, due to the fact that I cooked them in vegetable broth, which contains salt, which retards the lentil cooking process. So I ended up with something only sort of good the pumpkin part was tasty, but the lentils ended up crunchy (not a desirable texture for soup), and the mushrooms actually looked like little bloated feet floating about in the bowl. It was also a dark burnt orange color the pumpkin and the mushrooms combined to resemble some of the nastier acrylic sweaters I wore in kindergarten and the whole meal was an early-1970s vegetarian cookbook nightmare. I felt like I should be eating it with nut loaf and bulgur casserole or something like that.

After such a frightening meal, clean-up is nearly impossible. I couldn't get into it, because every spot and errant flake laying around reminded me of failure.

The whole day didn't entirely go to hell, I swear. It was pretty good until I decided to cook.

I went to the library book sale, as I mentioned yesterday. They had a lot of crap, which happens when you're dealing with books people donate. It seems like everyone in town gets sick of the same books at the same time. 2000 is apparently the year the whole town got rid of The Celestine Prophecy, which was YEARS overdue. Still, I managed to score some goodness. I got a copy of Lord Krishna's Cuisine: The Art of Indian Vegetarian Cooking (which I've wanted for ages); some book called Moving the Earth! An Excavation Workbook which features lots of diagrams and instructions on how to use a backhoe, in case I ever decide I want to know how to use one; yet another James Thurber book, which came with an added bonus stuck inside [1] late 1950s pictures of some woman in a green sweater with cat-eye glasses; and some other various random novels. Usually, they price books separately, but when I got up to the register to make my purchases, I found that they were just charging a dollar per bag of books. Not bad had I known that, I would have bought more.

It was Oktoberfest today, downtown. I didn't go we have woefully underdeveloped parking space downtown, and I wasn't in the mood for funnel cakes. Actually, the only decent part of our Oktoberfest celebration used to be the drinking, but then they cracked down on that. Drinking is only allowed in an enclosed space on one side street, under an enormous blue tarp, and the only beer allowed is Budweiser, so there's really no point to it anymore. As a civic celebration, Oktoberfest is only mildly popular better-attended than Earth Day festivities, certainly, but much less anticipated than Free Dump Day. [2]

I bought some bath stuff at Target this afternoon mint bath gel, which makes me smell like an Altoid, and lemongrass and ginger-scented soap, which makes me smell like a Thai restaurant. Hopefully, I will remember not to use them at the same time.

Since I'll be in Denver until Tuesday or thereabouts, I don't know if I'm going to be updating until then. I don't plan to, anyway I should be out enjoying myself instead.

[1] Actually, most of the books had something stuck inside. The Rick Moody novel I got had a hand-scrawled message in it: "Chuck: They didn't call." The excavation book had three ancient, brittle sticks of gum inside. And Lord Krishna's Cuisine had the library receipt from the last person to check it out me, last December. (I had to check the number on the receipt against my library card to make sure)

[2] The day they open up the dump and let everyone throw away their stuff for free. The city even serves punch and cookies for Free Dump Day revelers.

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