Self-indulgent whiny foo.
Dec. 10th, 2002 09:01 amThe Universe can be cruel sometimes. Not in big, spectacular ways, or ways that even actually mean anything; just little ways that make me wanna whine. Ways that let me know how good I really have it, so I had better be appreciative instead of all whimpery. But it's still a pain in the bum:
1. Made potato gratin last night for today's office party. We celebrate Clara Barton's birthday here at the Red Cross, 'cos we're not supposed to have any religious affiliations - and before y'all get snotty about political correctness, Christ in Christmas, etc., allow me to state that our rules about neutrality got laid down in 1881. Unlike the Federal gub'mint, our mission is to go into places where people hate each other and get stuff done without getting shot at, and that means we very specifically have to be both impartial AND neutral. This isn't no establishment of religion, this is 'you will be neutral, dammit'. . . So anyway. Clara was born on 24 December, so we celebrate her birthday instead of Christmas, Solstice, Hanukkah, Eid, or anything else. The party's today. I spent the better part of an hour and a half making potato gratin with good quality russets, Vidalia onions, real raw milk Gruyere, and so on. There is very little crueler to a cook like me than the marvellous smell of onions sauteing in olive oil to the point of browning, except possibly the smell of those onions layered into a nice potato-and-broth-and-cheese concoction that has been baking at 400 degrees for fifty minutes, which you are not allowed to eat because it is for the party.
2. The bitter cold days of lazy wind (wind that cannot be bothered to blow around you and so blows through you) are not the hardest days to get out of bed in the morning. No, the days when the house heat is exactly right, and the foam rubber that covers the lumpiness of your 15-year-old mattress is doing its job, and the blankets you have on are exactly enough, and your pyjamas are fuzzy - those are the hardest days to get out of bed, because Cozy is the most powerful force on the face of the planet Earth on mornings like that. On the bitter mornings the world subtracts too much from the force of Cozy for it to be as strong a threat, but on the mornings when it all goes right the idea of getting out of bed and facing the decidedly un-cozy world... well, it's really hard to convince yourself that to do so would be a good idea.
3. When you are looking for a morning caffeine boost, and you reach for a product made by FOLGER'S, you generally expect it to taste like coffee. Even if it is labeled Mocha, because then it should taste like coffee and chocolate. Let me reiterate that: this product was a mocha latte from the fine people at Folger's. It said it was a mix of coffee and milk right on the package. Why, then, did it taste slightly less coffeelike than YooHoo?
At this point all I'm going to say is: I know how whiny this sounds. I know how petty it sounds. I know I live in one of the most spectacular countries in the world and millions of people the planet over would kill to live here and have problems like these instead of the problems they have now. I did warn you RIGHT IN THE TITLE that this was self indulgent, didn't I? I'm allowed, 's my journal after all...
And the day you have to turn down a disaster assignment to an island 22 hours away in the Pacific which is currently without water, sewers, or electricity because you do not have a passport - and you have real regrets about not being able to go - then you can complain at me about self-indulgence. (Okay, I turned down the Guam thing because
cadhla is coming to town the last few days of the year, but even if she weren't, I still don't have a passport. And I still wish I could serve there. Ah well, next year - it's not like the Pacific has a defined hurricane season.)
1. Made potato gratin last night for today's office party. We celebrate Clara Barton's birthday here at the Red Cross, 'cos we're not supposed to have any religious affiliations - and before y'all get snotty about political correctness, Christ in Christmas, etc., allow me to state that our rules about neutrality got laid down in 1881. Unlike the Federal gub'mint, our mission is to go into places where people hate each other and get stuff done without getting shot at, and that means we very specifically have to be both impartial AND neutral. This isn't no establishment of religion, this is 'you will be neutral, dammit'. . . So anyway. Clara was born on 24 December, so we celebrate her birthday instead of Christmas, Solstice, Hanukkah, Eid, or anything else. The party's today. I spent the better part of an hour and a half making potato gratin with good quality russets, Vidalia onions, real raw milk Gruyere, and so on. There is very little crueler to a cook like me than the marvellous smell of onions sauteing in olive oil to the point of browning, except possibly the smell of those onions layered into a nice potato-and-broth-and-cheese concoction that has been baking at 400 degrees for fifty minutes, which you are not allowed to eat because it is for the party.
2. The bitter cold days of lazy wind (wind that cannot be bothered to blow around you and so blows through you) are not the hardest days to get out of bed in the morning. No, the days when the house heat is exactly right, and the foam rubber that covers the lumpiness of your 15-year-old mattress is doing its job, and the blankets you have on are exactly enough, and your pyjamas are fuzzy - those are the hardest days to get out of bed, because Cozy is the most powerful force on the face of the planet Earth on mornings like that. On the bitter mornings the world subtracts too much from the force of Cozy for it to be as strong a threat, but on the mornings when it all goes right the idea of getting out of bed and facing the decidedly un-cozy world... well, it's really hard to convince yourself that to do so would be a good idea.
3. When you are looking for a morning caffeine boost, and you reach for a product made by FOLGER'S, you generally expect it to taste like coffee. Even if it is labeled Mocha, because then it should taste like coffee and chocolate. Let me reiterate that: this product was a mocha latte from the fine people at Folger's. It said it was a mix of coffee and milk right on the package. Why, then, did it taste slightly less coffeelike than YooHoo?
At this point all I'm going to say is: I know how whiny this sounds. I know how petty it sounds. I know I live in one of the most spectacular countries in the world and millions of people the planet over would kill to live here and have problems like these instead of the problems they have now. I did warn you RIGHT IN THE TITLE that this was self indulgent, didn't I? I'm allowed, 's my journal after all...
And the day you have to turn down a disaster assignment to an island 22 hours away in the Pacific which is currently without water, sewers, or electricity because you do not have a passport - and you have real regrets about not being able to go - then you can complain at me about self-indulgence. (Okay, I turned down the Guam thing because
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