the proper way to cook mushrooms

An interesting tidbit I truly appreciated this evening about mushrooms was the fact that when sautéing them in a copious amount of olive oil and butter is that during the first couple minutes they soak up all that glorious fatty goodness. And then after browning a wee bit, they release it all again. Amazing! I learned this while cooking Julia Child's beef stroganoff, or more formally, Sauté de Boeuf à la Parisienne [unlike this girl's though, I cut my beef into stew-style cubes]. It is delicious and wonderful with noodles or steamed green beans and whole baby potatoes.

There is something about cooking that is very relaxing even when hot oil is sputtering all over you. I love the look of a nicely arranged plate of delicious food.

In other news, I have acquired another bridesmaid dress. I am slowly becoming that chick from 27 Dresses. When I alerted Kyleman to this and politely [ok, maybe not so polite as highly suggested slightly more on the demanding side] told him to propose to me soon so I wouldn't sink into "always-a-bridesmaid-never-a-bride" syndrome. He told me no. Eh, I knew it was a long-shot anyways.

Anyways, I've just realized how late it was and since I've FINALLY been getting some decent sleep the last couples nights [last week was sleep hell. I think it might have actually been a combination of staying up late and getting up late and the extra heat from all the blankets on my bed: the trouble is, my room is super cold when I get into bed but by the morning I'm boiling. Constantly a lose-lose situation] I don't want to jinx it by losing all the good work I've done of depriving myself of sleep until I was forced to go to bed early to survive.

Ok, it might not have been as dramatic as that. But hey, I'm tired and in my brain that's how the history goes.

Obviously time for bed.
Ta.

because I can't sleep.

I can't decide if the fact that I can't really fall asleep [on this particular night - the fact that I cannot fall sleep isn't new to me. In fact, it's plagued me most of my life] is because the last couple nights I've stayed up late-ish with Kyle while taking care of him post-surgery or that I'm attempting to sleep alone for the first time in about half a week.

I hate that once I had crawled into bed and was just staring at the ceiling, I felt like I had never had a break from sleeping at home and hadn't just spent wonderful sleep-filled nights at Kyleman's [really, I do sleep better when I'm with him. It's a fact]. I hate feeling like I had never left.

I do, however, love that I have essentially found the someone who I can mean something to [Where-ere-ere-ere is love?] and that I don't want to smother with a pillow in frustration after spending multiple days and nights with. I believe I told him last night, "I'm glad you love me the way you do. I've never had a boy who's loved me as much as you do."

Truth be told, I've never loved a boy as much as I love him or had the love returned.

I'm very tempted to call him and see if he's sleepless too. More than likely though, he's fast asleep.

I'm also losing things apparently today.

I don't know where my iPOD is - even though Kyle said him and Warren couldn't find it at his place, I bet it's either there or in my car.

And I don't know where my phone charger is. I bet it's still plugged into Kyleman's power bar.

Sigh.

ABBA

ABBA is actually an acronym: Agnetha, Björn, Benny and Anni-Frid, the four people that are ABBA.

After writing my short picture post before this, I realized I wasn't completely done and decided to write another [I do things like that sometimes].

Have you ever listened to an extensive amount of Bee Gees? Some of their albums make you think of the Beatles, not disco.

I've been back at school for just over 24 hours now and I haven't unpacked yet. I should have started earlier but you know, whenever K-man leaves, the first few hours/night afterwards I inwardly have to adjust to being quite on my own - and can never get anything truly productive done [aside from feeding myself] and thus, I have not unpacked aside from my new iPOD stereo, laptop and external hard drive. And maybe a shirt. Well, his shirt. My latest ritual is making him leave me a shirt to wear incessantly and wear all the smell of him out of it until I have to exchange it for a fresh, Kyle-smelling one. I'm a girl, what can I say?

I am not that productive when I need to be.

One of my favourite things about beds is when they're all messy with lots of blankets and pillows on them, that's when I think they look the most comfortable - when they look rumpled and lived in, like someone's had a good sleep, a good time, a good snuggle with a good stuffed animal, that's when a bed looks most comfortable to me. I've made sure my bed in Guelph looks this way, and now my one at home.

Who needs a made bed?

I love the song 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover by Simon and Garfunkel. It was first given to me by Finnegan, a lovely boy who knows something about Simon and Garfunkel.

On the opposite end of the pole, Strawberry Gashes by Jack Off Jill is also brilliant; very emo, but quite lovely and delicate all at the same time.


It's now time to climb into my perfectly rumpled bed [class tomorrow morning, don'cha kno'] and sleep - even though I still feel like there are a million thoughts ramming themselves through my head in a very illogical pattern since I can't seem to keep any of them long enough to show them to you.

Goodnight.