mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Where I've been since Wednesday Oops. Sorry to leave my puking story up for so long. But, you know... When you have a damn fine diary entry, it's best to keep it up for a long time. I've been Am I right? Thought so... Hmm... Biggest news first? Ok, but I have to be subtle about the whole thing... I GOT A ROOMMATE!! I GOT A ROOMMATE!! I GOT A ROOMMATE!! Oops. What I mean is... I GOT A ROOMMATE!! It's kind of like getting a $300-a-month raise at work. It's kind of like seeing a lot more options opening up right in front of you. Let me tell you about the new roommie, who you'll no doubt hear a lot about over the next several months. But you probably won't hear too many gripes because I told her about this here diary so I can't bitch too much or she'll find out. What was I thinking? Anyway... The new roommate is a chick. She ownes a DVD player (which I have already hooked up and have borrowed DVDs for). She has a close friend who is studying interior decorating at school. Because my walls are whiter and more bare than Big Tom's ass from Survivor. Plus, and here's what is the clincher... She comes bringing $200 in rent every month. And she plans on paying for half of the utilities. Hense my $300 a month in savings, at least. To say that I am just a little apprehensive about getting a roommate would be a huge understatement. I have been living alone for seven months now. When you live completely alone, you tend to grow attatched to YOUR house. Your answering machine says "You have called the home of JP...". You gain pride in how clean it looks when people come over. You don't have to worry about making out on the couch with whoever (yeah... like that has or will happen) and your roommate coming home. In short, your house becomes your home, and it is hard to let go of the title of this little abode being "JP's Home." It is now going to be "JP's and RommateChick's Apartment." I'm not one to take huge changes like that too easily. I see it kind of like another breakup. I know this house inside and out. In the middle of the night, when I hear a noise, I know when it is the normal creaking of the apartment, or when the above neighbors are having sex. I know this apartment's "personality" if you will. So, no longer living alone here is, to me, like breaking up. And I don't take break-ups too well. I've been a roux-stirring, veggie-chopping, chicken-searing, (and finally) gumbo-cooking mofo over the past several days. (side note... Ever sneeze and get nose juice on your forehead? I just did, and WOW...) It started on Thursday night with me making about a gallon of fresh chicken stock. If you wanna make a good gumbo, the secret is in the stock. Make your own, dammit! I made a gallon of stock for what probably a can would cost. What I didn't use is now freezing in my, well, freezer. If you wanna know how to make your own stock, just email me. Anyway... I promised my good friend and co-worker Tara that I would make her some gumbo in exchange for her laundry facilities. Her "laundry room" is actually her closet, so (brace yourself, folks...) I was in the closet all day Friday! HA! Wooo... I kill myself. Anyway, we did laundry. She touched my underwear. I made her gumbo. We watched The Family Man while the clothes were drying. I wore my pajamas over to her house, so I was damned relaxed. I've known Co-Worker Tara for about four years now. When I was with Mandy and she was with Big Dan, we used to double date. Cute, eh? So, I got the laundry done, came home, and made some more gumbo for the company I had over. Yep. More gumbo. I now have gumbo coming out of my pores. Any time I get a hankerin' for gumbo, I just lick the back of my hand. So Big Tom didn't win Survivor. That blows. I knew it was going to be him or Lex or Ethan. Kind of like in the first Survivor, you knew it was going to be Rudy, Richard, or Whatshername. Those three-member alliances are pretty strong. Anybody want to make bets on who gets naked first? I'm hoping it'll be Kim Powers. She's quite the babe. And Big Tom got to see the Kim boob. Damn you, Big Tom. For those of you who don't know... The next survivor starts Feb. 28. Batton down the hatches! This one's going to rawk. No food, no fresh water. See... I thought they fed this Survivor crew too well. I wanna see my Survivors really try and survive. Well, that's about it. I'll leave you with a pic of a dessert I made for the bank I cooked for a few weeks ago. I hope you like. 9:37 p.m. - Sat., Jan 11, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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