Let’s talk about the kitchen in my first apartment: A room the size of an airplane galley* with the bonus feature of a countertop hinged to the wall. If that countertop was not in the lift and stow position (just like an airplane tray-table) it wasn’t possible to open the refrigerator or the oven.
This was great incentive (for my roommate) to do the dishes. I preferred moving the dirty dishes to the living room. *I’ve peeked in an airplane galley – it’s usually hidden behind a curtain (that matches the drapes) – the flight attendant works mechanically, loading up that cumbersome cart to roll down the aisle.
The delicacies that came out of that first apartment kitchen included (and were limited to) chicken pot-pies and tater tots. The crisper drawer in my refrigerator contained a large amount of an herb – but that was none of my business.
Oh, but the tater tots!
Straight from the freezer and onto my cast-iron skillet: washed down with an Old Milwaukee and a Camel Lights cigarette.
Whew! Did I mention I had 18 by the balls? ALSO, if I had a hankering for ribs OR pizza, I only had to walk down the stairs. That’s right, the one and only Ribizza fulfilled that strange combination requirement for Uptown, Minneapolis.
Exactly five minutes West of my house is Kings Wine Bar - a newish (rhymes with Jewish) little neighborhood restaurant. They serve tater tots but with sauces far fancier than ketchup. I was there last night and there didn’t seem to be any Old Milwaukee or Camel cigarettes on the menu but somehow, after we ate our tater tots, our table was magically covered with candy.
This doesn’t have anything to do with the card I wrote/designed last night. Or does it?
We murdered thousands of ants
before Jen and I had an important meeting to decide which cards should be included in our next release.
What began as an optimistic, joy-filled journey down Minnehaha Creek turned into a somber, personal purgatory.
No, no… it’s not a miracle. Just one woman’s attempt to make the world a better place.
Tickets are available by our back gate and the fight will be held in the driveway.
My life is an endless sacrifice.
And because I need attention, I made this:
See, it’s a profound cultural statement? DO YOU SEE?!
Oh, what do I do after the gong show? I chase and scold the cat.
until it peed and died in my hands.
Settle down. SETTLE DOWN. They’ve led us on before — I’m not going to fashion a wooden stool into a potty chair so that I can sit by the phone day and night.
I also took the time to create this:
So I think that makes us even.
Who would do such a thing?
The hydrangeas are blue enough.
And the dead people are still dead.
PHEW!
