TNS: My husband is a cheap son of a bitch.

ETA: Please, NO COMMISERATING.  It usually just makes me feel worse because no two people with mental illness are ever in the same place, and I need to be working through my own shit instead of comparing myself to others.  However, rooting for me is totally acceptable and is encouraged.

They tell me that eventually this drug is going to work like a charm, and in the meantime it’s just going be a bit “activating.”  Where activating = sitting curled up on the corner of the couch, sobbing, convinced my life is a crumbling wreck of a life, not even able to laugh at Alec Baldwin on 30 Rock who is FUCKING HILARIOUS.

So here’s the deal for tonight: The captions will tell you what you are actually look at.  The text and title will be drawn from the rich, rich trove of google searches.  Tomorrow, when, hopefully I will be sane at some point, I may go back in.  Hopefully. Lame? Yes. But I’m lame right now.  I promise make-up cake this weekend, and we all know make-up cake is the best kind of cake.

So, above: herb-roasted lamb loin chops with goat cheese and zinfandel sauce from Susan Spicer’s Crescent City Cooking, an excellent book that has (1) never led me astray and (2) has a lot of recipes involving cheese. So +2 on that count.

Prepping the sauce:  On the left, zinfandel reducing with rosemary, thyme and shallots.  On the right, boxed chicken stock being doctored.  Eventually, the stock was strained into the wine and the whole thing reduced into some syrupy deliciousness that was further en-delicioned with butter.

Counteracting jalapenos in my nose? Habanero inhalation? Fuck the chicken!

Alternatively? Monkey ass clam.

Pancetta.  Is it better to have sub-par pancetta or no pancetta at all? I err on the side of pancetta.  It was diced and cooked up until nice and crispy.

My mother in law is a fucking psycho, boob face.*

*I don’t mean to be cruel, but there is it.

The crispy pancetta went into a bowl with the goat cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, olive oil, fresh thyme, garlic, salt and olive oil.


Look at these peppers oh yeah, we’ve got motherfucking peppers. Goddamn green ones, and fucking yellow ones.*

*This was one full search string, punctuation included.

Mixed all together.  It looked like this. Yum.

I hate this worm inside me. So, I usually wear an apron.

There was no side dish suggested, so sauteed spinach always fits the bill.

All the party people in the house say…

my ass burns when shitting.*

*Not a party I want to attend.**

**A great many people seem to have this problem.  You all may want to have this looked at.

Lamb chops.  Brian, resident non-beef meat cooker, seared them to medium-rare perfection.

Ho ho fucking ho, what a “croque” of shit.

How can a frilled lizard walk?  Hot pear salad.  (Everyone knows that.)

The grand finale: lamb, cheese, sauce, spinach, deliciousness.

I always like to fuck chickens on Thursdays.


Anyway, I’m sorry about all that.  The weekend cake will be really good, I promise.  Name your flavor, most votes win.

0 thoughts on “TNS: My husband is a cheap son of a bitch.

  1. so im sick as a dog right now, and can hardly read… fortunately this was a low-text entry and i could muddle through it. it perked up my otherwise shitty day. im going to start calling people a “fucking psycho boob face.”

  2. Your Google hits are way better than mine. All I get are the people who want to learn how to burn cabbage and butcher deer.

    I think this says a lot about my life.

    I’ll be waiting for the whole post tomorrow. I still got about 50 pounds of lamb in my freezer . . .

  3. I fucking hate square plates, but i forgive when topped with lamb and cheese and wine…

    at least you know that when you’re in your fetal stage, that its just a stage and are actively working on it. I was married to someone for 6 years who wallowed in it, did not acknowledge or do anything about it, and sought to take me into his pit with him. he almost convinced me. ; )

    hang on, girl…

  4. My sister in law is a fucking psycho, boob face.

    Nothing makes me feel better than chocolate – so I vote chocolate cake. With chocolate frosting. Simple, but effective.

  5. jesi, actually, see the comma in that sentence? the “boob face” refers to YOU. i could make it clearer by re-writing as “boob face, my mother in law is a fucking psycho.”

    heather, i’m all for being more of a cray bitch, but only if it means i get to stop crying. i’m hitting the point in flowers for algernon where i would be happy to go back to original, stupid charlie.

    mama, just to be totally clear: MY MOTHER IN LAW IN NOT A FUCKING PSYCHO. that’s some stranger’s MIL. mine is a lovely woman and one of my best friends. i know it’s weird. just go with it.

    lisa, i’ve never made one, but it’s on the list.

    kristin, i think it’s better that way. my google hits are deeply, deeply disturbing. i shielded you from the worst of them.

    iamnotachef, somehow, that’s not making me feel better.

    leena, that sounds like mind kinda of cake. but we’ll have to wait until everyone has a chance to weigh in.

    vera, i like them. you can fit more food on them. also they are rectangles. so there.

    fetal stage, fine. when it’s me, and i know there are things that can fix it. medication-induced fetal stage, when the medication inducing the fetal-ness is the one that is supposed to end up helping me and the fetality (?) is a reaction to medication and not organic? ? a little tough to reconcile. but yeah, at least i’m trying, although it doesn’t feel like i’m accomplishing a whole lot.

    toontz, as explained above: your sister in law is a fucking bitch, YOU are the boob face.

    vote for chocolate duly noted.

  6. OK, how come your searches are soooooo off the wall crazy? That one about the peppers is over the top too much. My 2 craziest? “Limoncello Cocktail fruitsap” (don’t ask, haven’t a clue. But I do have a killer Limoncello cocktail. I guess that is redeeming on some level) and “photos with red berries from Maine” k. no comment there. I tagged “lobster poo” in my “cow with oar on roof” post (titled What the….?) but so far nothing. I am waiting for that day though. With baited breath.

    I like your psychos better than mine. Need to get more creative with tagging.

  7. When I was diagnosed with depression about 10 years ago, I was kind of mopey, sleeping all day, awake all night, and ordering food dehydrators and lampshade kits from the Home Shopping Network (as an aside, I did not own any lamps at the time.) When they medicated me, I found a depth of despair I thought only existed in English 101 poetry classes. Then the glorious manic upswing… and then balance. Then the slow decline… Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Have been med free for about five years now and am grateful every day– especially after reading about what a tough time you’re having.

    You have a gift with writing, a healthy and commendable love of butter and bacon, and cursing is one of your super powers. I thank you.

    Also, red velvet cake. Have never baked one and am intrigued. Also, if you could make it look like the armadillo cake in Steel Magnolias, that would be just ducky.

  8. I’m totally rooting for you. I will spare you any lengthy stories about why, but I get what you are going through and I applaud your resilience and humour.

    As for cakes, it’s snowing like a bitch here today, so I would love to see something tropical. More coconut? More passionfruit? Pineapple? Mango? Sunshine, dammit, SUNSHINE!

  9. BHL reminds me to ask: Can we get some more recipes for the passionfruit pulp? Because I have some in my freezer, and sometimes just eat it, but you know, doing something with it would be nice as well.

  10. lissa, way to rally the troops.

    anna, i don’t know, maybe because i curse like a sailor? although some of them (i’m looking at you, long crazy search string about peppers), i just don’t know.

    becca, there better be. if i’m to crazy to make cake this weekend i will be PISSED.

    vickylee, i’ve never made a red velvet cake, either. i’ve also never understood quite what makes them so exciting. i mean, i’ll eat it. but it’s just cake.

    donald, maple-bacon cake sounded totally good…until you threw in the guanciale. TOO MUCH.

    BHL, thanks for the rootin’. as for the cake, i think you’re being outvoted by the maple-bacon contingent.

    jesse, either bon appetit or gourmet had a great recipe for passion fruit gelees that i made and were met with great fanfare on xmas. i bet you could find it on epicurious.

  11. I was going to throw in a vote for jam cake with maple frosting, but maple bacon cake?? Count me in.
    Oh, and I’m with you on the red velvet cake. It’s pretty (when it’s not looking like a big ol’ ugly armadillo), but it’s just cake.

  12. For your sake, I hope the meds kick in. But maybe for our sake you can pretend they’re not working?

    I don’t so much care what kind of cake you smack down this weekend as hope there is more swearing.

  13. Hang in there lady! My ex has been on antidpressants for some time now; they take a little time to kick in, and the side effects suck, but they do subside, and you will be amazed at the difference you’ll feel.

    Definitely, maple bacon!!!!

  14. maple bacon all the way! I can imagine it’s heavenly crispy salty sticky sweetness now…*sigh*

    I’m pulling for you. *hugs*

  15. I vote for CARAMEL CAKE with real butter, of course. For the depression and other craziness, there is a light of hope out there, I think it is reflecting off your mixer, or maybe some pots and pans. but it IS there – just focus on the cake for now. OOOO, a caramel cake with some crunchy salt on top….

  16. I’d kind of like a cake of bacon. Not a bacon cake, as in a baked good containing bacon, but a CAKE OF bacon, a la cake of soap or cake of… I don’t know, some other thing that comes in a brick.

    Although on second thought, this might have already been invented, and it’s called “a pig.”

    Whatever. Good luck battling your new meds.

  17. Are you still taking votes, or have you already made your cake? I’m hoping for the bacon one as well. I do empathise with what you’re going through right now, been there, done that. It seems like a long ride, I know. I don’t think we are ever ‘cured’, we just keep thinking good thoughts and keep our hope up…at least on our ‘good’ days. I guess that’s not what you wanted to hear, but it’s realistic.

  18. I love this blog so much; can’t remember how I came across it initially but I’ve been keeping up ever since because you never fail to make me lol. I am totally cheering you on! GO GO GO!

    Anyway, I know EXACTLY what that peppers quote person was googling for.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s