M, Making Macaroni

I can't believe I am so gross sometimes!

On Friday night Javert and I went out to dinner and then to our friends house to hang out. I'd eaten a ton at dinner, so I passed on the mini-cheesecakes offered for dessert. When we got home at 1 or 2, I was horrified to find that I NEEDED to have some Easymac. Why? I have no idea. All I know is I needed it SO BADLY and was not pleased when the bodega didn't carry it. All the supermarkets were closed since they suck and the closest thing I could find at the bodega were cheese nips. Unacceptable. I thought for a while about breaking into my emergency Cheetos supply but knew that I wouldn't be satisfied even if I gorged myself, and that I'd never be able to purchase a resupply (I didn't buy the emergency pack either, I conned my brother-in-law into doing it). I would have totally depleted my emergency supply in a non-Cheetos emergency.

So instead I ate something inferior that I can't remember now and went to sleep. I got up bright and early to work with the CSL, went to the farmers market and purchased some excellent zucchini turnovers, homemade doughnuts, and apple-corn salsa, and got on the subway to come home.

The stupid weekend subway took hours to come, and I was really hungry and thirsty. But I was determined to find Easymac, which I still desperately needed despite having purchased delicious and fresh farmers market food. At 96th street I should've gotten out of the train and walked to Gristedes, gotten my fix, and walked the rest of the way home. But I was tired and opted to wait for 20 minutes for the local train. 20 minutes! Then I went to D'agostino, the worst supermarket in the world, where they make foodstamps users go in a separate line and where all transactions must take at least 15 minutes (I'm totally serious here), to buy my Easymac. This 4.99 purchase took approximately 20 minutes also, even though I was in the express line and the 5 people in front of me each had only 3 items. I don't know how a supermarket can be so disfunctional and still be in business (oh wait, I do know. When there aren't any normal supermarkets for a half mile radius in Manhattan, the one remaining market can be as shitty as they want and still have customers.)

Anyway, I went home finally and made my Easymac and it was SO GOOD and I've been thinking of making more ever since. That's what happens when you eat preservative laden crap--you get addicted. Did I eat my zucchini turnover or the doughnut or the salsa? No. (ok, I ate the salsa. It went well with the easymac.)

Can you believe it? Who knows what might come next--perhaps I'll bring some Lunchables to work tomorrow. Yum.

Proboscis

On Monday night, Javert and I watched the movie Mimic. The plot is thus: A creepy disease spread by cockroaches is killing Manhattan's children. An entomologist develops another type of cockroach that will kill all of the deadly ones and then die itself, since it's genetically engineered to have no reproductive capacity. Three years later, the entomologist discovers she fucked up majorly and the genetically engineered cockroaches are (of course) reproducing like crazy in the subway system. They're 6 feet tall, can fly, and the best part--they have a human-like head they use so as not to immediately scare off their prey (humans). When they're close to a victim, the human-like head splits down the middle, revealing their giant cockroach head and mouth which they use to devour the target. The entomologist and her team, consisting of her husband (some sort of infectious disease expert) a stereotypical NYPD subway cop, an immigrant man who shines shoes in the subway station, and his autistic son, spend a night getting chased around the subway tunnels by hoardes of these giant cockroaches.

In case you were wondering (please tell me you were) I was not just sitting watching this movie, I was also busy doing other stuff at the same time. Nevertheless, I knew this movie would scare me. Despite how incredibly ridiculous the idea of giant Cockroach Men taking over the subway is, I still managed to convince myself that not only did they exist, but that one had also gotten into my apartment and was going to eat me when I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

I kept making jokes about the Cockroach Man all night long to try to alleviate the inevitable fear I knew I'd feel around bedtime. I failed. It wasn't completely my fault--just before we turned the lights out, they flickered in a really creepy way, and a siren went off simultaneously. Sure enough, in the middle of the night, when I had to go to the bathroom, I woke Javert and told him I was scared of the Cockroach Man in our hallway. He told me I was being ridiculous, but I still turned on the nighttable lamp before I got up to do my business. Needless to say, the Cockroach Man did not get me, although Javert managed to scare me in the subway station the next morning by pretending to be him.

I bet you thought this story was going to end with me finding a real cockroach in my apartment. Hah!

How Ratfoot Got Her Name

I found this post on the now defunct PodBlog...I thought some readers of Ratfoot might enjoy it.

Yesterday I left the office after a rousing 2 hour game of Motherlode, walking to the 1/9 via 28th Street. I was on 28th between 6th and 7th, aka the plant-store block, as the store owners were taking in the plants for the night. I'd just had some excitement on 5th and 27th, as that block was totally filled with police vehicles due to this situation. It was about 5:30 and it was raining slightly.

I felt like something was walking next to me, so I looked around for the cat who lives in one of the plant stores. This summer, the cat's entire body (except for its head and paws) was shaved, and I wanted to see if the hair had grown back properly and if it was still as cute as it was last spring. But sadly, I couldn't find the cat. My suspicion was right, however, as I did feel something brush against my left foot. It felt just like a cat. Unfortunately, as you may all have guessed, it was not a cuddly feline, it was A HUGE RAT THAT WAS TOUCHING MY FOOT. About 8 inches long with a similarly long tail, the rat had grayish brown fur. After colliding with my foot it ran off into the street.

I didn't scream or jump or do any of the typical "girl" responses. Instead, I almost passed out. I thought about amputation, but ruled it out as the rat hadn't actually touched my skin. I'd have to burn my clothes though, and do something terrible to my favorite shoes. All this made me want to die. But I comforted myself knowing that I could write about it today on the PodBlog and that made me feel a lot better. Javert called me Rat Foot all night yesterday. I probably shouldn't have posted that tidbit here.

Update

I went back to the coffee shop on Friday after work, and the owner remembered me! And then made me the best hot chocolate I've had in a long time. I sat and read my book and successfully ignored a friend of the owner who brought his two extremely aggressive pit bulls into the shop. Maybe it's because I was in a really good mood (for once!) and it felt like spring, but I loved that place on Friday. I didn't feel like I needed to kill anybody (the dogs are a different story, however).

Then, on Sunday, I sent my brother there to study and he came right back with this description: "There were a bunch of people and it looked like they were having a party and they were talking about really weird stuff." I asked if it involved alien abduction, but he didn't know. Plus they were out of hot chocolate.

I think I'll go back today and try it once more.