The Brightside of Single... aside from keeping house poorly

As previously mentioned: I am not in fact a wife (outside of the future projections in my own head)


As a plucky woman of the 80's I'm always for getting out there to find that enigmatic man that appreciates quick wit and meals almost from scratch. But by June Cleaver this was too much - I had to share.

On a very popular albeit pedestrian dating site a man expressed interest in meeting me.

While I can take any form I wish I have the highest utmost standards for my male arm candy. What can I say? I like em beautiful.

This man...


This man looks like an atrophied thirty something turtle (both with and without the beard). He was slightly gingery (don't be creepy - you know that's nasty). His eyes looked like he'd been up all night imagining your relationship including robust scenes of how he was cheated on and then planning his revenge.

Not a winner winner chicken dinner.

But then it got better: he's an artist.

Included voluntarily is the image below.

I really should just stop writing. This does deserve a drop of the mike, but I just can't help myself?! Wwwwwho? Wwwwhat? Wwwwhy??? I sputter. Also what's the focus on detailed hands. Does this mean something? Can that crime show with [Dharma's] Greg and Shemar Moore profile him? I need insight. No, actually I don't.

His interests include glasses and piercing. He writes, "I can be intense" in his profile. You think?

If posting this is wrong I don't wanna be right... but I do wanna be single. Toasting my lack of cray cray boyfriend with chilled white wine with a drop of cranberry sauce (don't hate - he'll get you if you do).

I-Just-Got-Sick-[Probably-Because-of-Time-Spent-With-My-Family] Ode-to Bridget-Jones-Turkey-Curry-Soup

A dashing young gent (not a true candidate to make me a wifey, but a good time nonetheless) recently asked me what my hobbies were. He was wonderful and swept me slightly off the floor (metaphorically as I am of the sizable set) and passed the evenings well during my Jamaican Thanksgiving Adventure. But his question threw me. Is regularly drinking with friends a hobby? Watching the Amazing Race? No? No? Really? um...

Lazy blogging? Occasional sewing? Cooking... or buying dinner?

I've got to become more rounded.

Resolution: take up archery, a man, and a language.

Will keep posted.

I-Just-Got-Sick-[Probably-Because-of-Time-Spent-With-My-Family] Ode-to Bridget-Jones-Turkey-Curry-Soup

1. Saute onions in a huge pot (cast iron feels v. Pilgrim-y) (please disregard the genocidal tendencies implied in said comment)
2. While it's cooking chop up 2 tomatoes and 4 or 5 cloves of garlic. Add em to the pot.
3. Dump in a bunch of curry powder
4. Add a hot pepper or hot pepper sauce if you dare (and honestly, you should)
5. Slosh it all around on the heat
6. Add a thumb sized chunk of peeled ginger chopped into fat coins (the size of bubble yum or larger) and bruised with the back of your knife
7. Add water and/or chicken stock

8. Wait for your mother to bring round a whole turkey and/or carcass. In my case: wait for mother to bring round a whole bird... a whole undercooked bird. Good thing you're making soup.

9. Add [slightly pink] turkey meat
10. Add a bag of frozen peas and boil until mom's chicken is actually cooked

Top with that spoiled yogurt you took to work and didn't eat and then put back in the fridge. (Oh comon- it's a delicacy in some countries... probably)

Dumping potatoes or carrots in wouldn't hurt either.