duck-shaped pain

How to tell if your day went better than mine:

1. Did you get a lecture in Proper Toilet Procedure at work today?

No? You win.

Yes? Welcome to hell. Here's your banjo.

Too many minutes of my workday were spend listening to a screed about how we were all letting the lid of the toilet bang down on the bowl much too loudly. Never mind that we're extremely busy; never mind that we're starting the new drilling project next week � the toilet issue was Priority One.

To compensate, and also to feel like at least a semi-adult again, I made dinner. Tonight was a total Allium fest: baked onions and shallots with mustard, rosemary and butter, and pasta with scallions and garlic in wine sauce. It was yummy, in that I-can't-believe-I-made-this way, which happens more often that I readily admit.

I was thinking today about my birthday, for some reason. It's less than two months away � January 16. [1] January birthdays suck � it's close enough to Christmas that you never get anything decent and since it's after the whole Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Year's celebration bloc, people are much too weary to do much more than offer the limpest of birthday wishes. If you have any possible means to avoid it, I would recommend against being born in January.

I must come from a long line of spring rutters, because there are a high number of January birthdays in my family. My grandfather was born in January, and so was my aunt. (That counts as a "high number" in my family). Holiday overdose from the previous months sometimes led us to celebrate all three birthdays at once. Which is efficient and all, but sort of leaves a bad feeling in the mouth come birthday morning.

Something I wrote today:

I get to cook a turkey tomorrow. I've never cooked a turkey before, so all spare poultry karma you could send my way would be greatly appreciated. I'm not sure how this happened � since the split-up of my parents and the family diaspora since, there really hasn't been a real default Thanksgiving location or person in charge. And I didn't think there was going to be, this year, until City Market started giving out free turkeys (I was secretly hoping to just go to a restaurant). So, I got put in charge.

I spent this afternoon going through my cookbook collection, trying to put together a decent turkey procedure. I'm using a combination of my mom's method and the recipe in How To Cook Everything (it has better instructions regarding stuffing and gravy � sorry, mom). I'm not cooking very much since there's only going to be three people eating � me, my dad and my paternal grandmother. [2] So there's going to be cornbread stuffing, mashed potatoes (with or without garlic � I love it in my mashed potatoes, certain other people at the table are Very Opposed to the whole idea of garlic), rolls and (my idea) braised root vegetables in wine sauce. So, this could be either an important hey-I-feel-like-an-adult-now moment or it will fall under the If It's Not A Good Time, It's A Good Story [3] category.

Or I could just scratch it all and serve Tofurkey.

I guess I believe in premonitions � or at least I mainly believe in them when they work to my advantage. Something that is making me feel hopeful about the upcoming meal is that today was the first road-test of the much-too-expensive and hopelessy complicated camera system I've been assembling at work (the one that took these pictures, if you remember). Lots of people were there to watch and potentially bitch for hours today, and the thing worked perfectly. I was extremely relieved/vindicated/happy/in the mood for lunch. Now it just has to work in blindingly cold temperatures up in a trailer in the middle of nowhere. I wish this sincerely, because if it doesn't work, guess who has to drive up there at a moment's notice to go fix it?

[1] Which makes me a Capricorn, as I'm sure you can guess. I'm a Capricorn, an only child and an INTP -- cross me at your own risk.

[2] The less said here, the better.

[3] The theme of this entire journal to date, I believe.

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