Kind of fucked up Christmas. My plan, at least my thoughts, were to wake up early enough to make pasta with the sausage I bought on sale. Inbetween that and finally nuking the latest plastic tub of fried rice my parents saved for me, I would clear the driveway and/or back deck of snow so I would expend some of the calories consumed from the pasta. But I was going to let my sleep dictate my yesterday, and my body told me to wake up at 11 or 11:30 -- I fell asleep at 1:30, and I resume my early work schedule this morning, so sleeping in was the right thing to do.
So I had to adjust; after an hour of not wanting to get out of the bed, let alone the house, I finally decided I would shovel snow from the front first, then eat. But then I remembered I hadn't blogged yet, so I delayed eating until I got done with that. I came in at 1, after about an hour of shoveling the driveway, just in time to see the beginning of the ABC pre-game to the two NBA games that were going to be on. (By the way, the intro to NBA Showtime on ABC is pretty damn slick. I like it a lot, and you guys should check it out.) I didn't finish the blog post (the previous one, about me getting jerked off by ****a) until a little bit before 3:30. Then it didn't really make sense to eat twice, especially since I've made it a Christmas tradition to get a cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory Christmas Eve and eat it the night of Christmas Day. So the fried rice can wait; I decided to make pasta for the first time in a long time.
And my Buddha, what a fucking disaster. I learned from previous experience that the first thing I need to do is boil the water for the pasta, and the second thing to do was to pull apart the meat. But this was sausage -- a little tougher to pull apart because of all the fat. (It is supposed to balled up, after all, like it shows on the picture in the front of the package.) By the time I got through the entire pound, the water was spilling over the top of the pot and into the stove ring below.
Then I throw the pasta in -- but which kind? We have a lot of different boxes, so I was looking through them to see which ones have been opened and then which ones were set to expire. I settled on finishing the thin spaghetti, then ripping open a box of generic elbow macaroni that has a Best Before date of 10/19/11. Previous experience also reminded me to not slavishly follow the serving recommendations, because one time I made too little, at least compared to the amount of sauce I made. So even though the recipe in the back of the box said half of it would serve eight, I figured that would be enough to serve myself.
Wow, was I bleeping wrong about that. When I got done with the pasta (water still spilling out everywhere -- how come it does that when I was 1 1/2 quarts short of the four quarts recommended to boil it?) there was a huge heap of it, so much that, once again, I still had a little left and thought I wouldn't be able to finish it all. It would be an amount the man I was twenty or ten years ago would be able to eat without an issue, but hey, I'm 37. Moreover, I was so preoccupied with cooking the sausage with the pasta sauce (which isn't ... how do you say it, incorporating together? The pasta sauce I make doesn't look like the pasta sauce on the pictures and on TV. What am I doing wrong?) that I forgot to toss the thin spaghetti and elbow macaroni. I let it cool as well, so that when I was ready to put it into my plate, it came out in one fully-formed heap. Also, even though I thought I was frantically stirring the pasta pot, some of the elbow macaroni wound up sticking to the bottom of it, meaning I had to take some time late tonight to scour it out with a pad.
At least the pasta came out al dente, and it looked like I made enough sauce for the gigantic bowl of pasta I made for myself. Too bad the sausage balls rolled off the pasta solid, over the dish and onto the floor. And since said pasta was so huge, I had to serve myself the sauce twice or else all the pasta sauce would have fallen to the floor. That second helping of sauce was cold off the sauce pan; even though the pasta was warm (probably because it kept its shape), the sauce was cold, so I had to make sure I stirred them together to eat something warm.
Maybe I should cut back on how much I make because I'm still full. I shoveled the back, which helped, but this time around that work didn't feel as if I burned as many calories as other times, even though I cleared a few inches off of it. I was able to eat one of the three cheesecakes I bought for myself (I bought a fourth, for ****a, after I offered to get her one for our one-on-one Christmas Eve), but I wasn't really hungry. However, I was able to drink a can of Bud Light with the pasta, then after an early-evening nap (in which I missed the end of a game where the game Lakers stuck around before losing to the Heat) I needed to drink an entire can of Coke, and then I needed to chase down the cheesecake with orange juice, and I'm drinking yet another cup of OJ now. After pasta for dinner I'm thirsty while not feeling particularly hungry, you know?
I really thought that with my parents away, my naturally lazy state and the need to write, sleep and masturbate to online pornography would keep me from eating a whole lot. I don't know if that's the case, and I have 25 days to lose some weight before they come back.
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