mychai's Diaryland Diary

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Just call me Seymour Krelborn.

My mom is taking advantage of me.

Every since I got a job at the resturaunt, my mom has supposedly been telling all of her friends that I am this big master chef, and that I cook all the time for people, and that I love to spend all of my time in the kitchen.

Which is all mostly true. Well, except for the whole "master chef" thing. I think you have to speak French for that title. And since the French hate us Americans for no reason other than the fact that they are a bunch of pansies (Hey... Just quoting Shakespeare indirectly. If you are French and are offended, talk to Billy, not me), I don't feel the need to speak their gay-ass language.

But I do love to cook for people. And I do love to spend a lot of time in the kitchen. No argument there.

But I will fly into New Orleans at around 11:00 at night. The time it takes to get my luggage and get home, it will be nearly 1:00am before I finally get to bed. After being up since 4:00am the day before. For all of you math deficient people, that is a 21-hour day.

My mom has scheduled a dinner party the very next day! I fly home on July 2, and I have a dinner party on July 3.

Normally, I would choose something that would be easy to cook if I had this kind of schedule. But not this time. Uh-uh. Nooooo wayyyy. My mom has requested crab-stuffed steak.

Which will take all friggin' day to cook. Not to mention that I will have to make some brown stock, which will take about 8 hours total to make.

"But JP, why don't you just buy beef stock in a can? That'll save you a TON of work." Don't make me slap you.

When I cook -- especially for guests -- I do it right. Nothing satisfies me more than a perfect meal being served to a bunch of guests who expect nothing more than meat, veggie, and lettuce salad. I believe that quality lies within the small details. So, I spend 8 hours and cook my own brown stock.

And what makes this worse? The party is for a Sunday school class full of SOUTHERN BAPTISTS. My mom has already instructed me to serve NO WINE.

Wha??? I... I...

This, of course, is a sin. I'm not saying "having wine is a sin." I'm saying, "not having wine is a sin." How can you not drink wine with a great meal? Instead, we will be having sweet iced tea.

Don't get me wrong. Iced tea is in my blood. I live for my iced tea. But.... It's just wrong.

Then, on July 4th, my mom has invited another friend or two over. Guess who's cooking Independance Day dinner!

Yep! Your's truly.

I'm afraid I won't get to see my dad while I am down. This happens every time I go down. My mom purposely monopolizes alllll of my time. And then, when I go to visit my dad, she gives this massive guilt trip. Which doesn't help her cause at all.

It generally really pisses me off. I love my mom. She's a beautiful woman. Sweet as the dickens. But, Jesus H. She can sure lay on guilt. And nothing pushes me away or pisses me off more than someone trying to use my emotions as a tool for their benefit.

And even though I love my mommie, I am closer to my dad. It's that whole Father/Son bond. I love my Mommy. But Dad is my bud. Ya know?

Jeez. I know I am going to die in a freak accident, my mom will read this diary, and think I didn't love her.

I know it. I just know it.

So, all day July 3 and 4, I will be cooking. If you need me, I will be in the kitchen, slurping down my own private stashes of wine and beer. I always drink when I cook. How can you not??

I bought the coolest thing last week!

Spanish-Speaking Neighbor woke me up early Friday morning and dragged me to her car, kicking and screaming.

It was I who was kicking and screaming. Not the car.

But she wanted me to help her in her garden, which is located across town. She hasn't weeded in a week or two, so she put me to work pulling up weeds. She has a nice garden. Lots of variety. I look forward to sneaking out there in the middle of the night and taking what I want.

But afterwards, we went to Lowes because she wanted flowers, and while there, I found a whole collection of bug-eating plants. So, I splurged and bought two. Since they were only about $3 a piece, I guess it technically wouldn't be considered a "splurge." But it was my big purchase of the week.

When I got home, I found an old canister that used to hold little cups of jello I bought at the Asian market. It made a perfect terrariam to hold my new plants.

I got a venus fly trap and a sundew plant. The venus fly trap looks a lot like this:

Once I got it repotted and rested it for a few days, I went outside at night and collected little bugs from the street lamp. I came back and put them in the terrariam.

I have the happiest damned bug-eating plants in the world, I do.

My goal is for my plants to grow little pot bellies and sit around all day watching sports and drinking beer. Then die of a coronary at age 2. (Which is age 30 to a bug-eating plant.) (No. I'm not sure. In fact, I made that up.)

When they get bigger and more used their new surroundings, I will take some pictures so you can see my wonderful collection of window plants.

Well, I am off. I need to go for a quick run before heading off to bed.

I will leave you with a clip from a song from one of my most favorite bands, Gaelic Storm.

Slide the lock and close my eyes
Hide behind this thin disguise
Time to kiss myself "goodnight"
And turn out the light

10:47 p.m. - Mon., June 24, 2002

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