Thursday, May 29, 2014

Your father lacks an appreciation of the finer points of bad behavior.


One of the drawbacks of having foreigners raise you in the US is that certain words will never ever ever ever be ok. They will lead to confusion and possibly embarrassment no matter what.

Like saying "tomato." My parents say "to-MAH-to" and not "to-MAY-to." They have always said it that way, so when I try to say "to-may-to," I feel like I sound retarded and the word comes out a weird hybrid of both. So I just avoid saying "tomato" altogether.

"Garage" is also a problem. Mum, who is Irish, says "GA-ridge." Dad, who is English, says "GAH-raahhhhge" (Idk how to spell how he pronounces it; that's the best I can do). Just like with tomato, when I say it, it tends to come out a combo of both parents and the US version.

But I'm getting away from the actual subject of this post.

Biscuits, cookies, scones, crumpets, and a number of other baked things.

If someone asks me if I want a biscuit, I have to think very hard about my answer. (Either way, the answer is usually "YES I WILL TAKE SEVERAL BISCUITS," but I like to know what I'm about to receive beforehand.)

If Mum or Dad offers me a biscuit, I will receive a biscuit:


None of my relatives have ever offered me a cookie. Because it's not a cookie; it's a biscuit.

But then if someone in Cracker Barrel offered me biscuits [and gravy], I would also reply with yes, and I would receive this:


I have lost count of the number of times I have had to explain this to visiting relatives.

Then in college, there was the Great Biscuit vs. Scone Debate.

My roommates very much enjoyed my cooking and baking. They were also fascinated with all the "foreign" recipes I prepared (like soft-boiled eggs; seriously idk how anyone could survive childhood without soft-boiled eggs and soldiers).

One time, my roommate asked me to bake her some scones. So I baked her some delicious scones, and presented them to her with jam, and tea.

And she was like "what the f*ck are those"



She claimed that I had made her biscuits, not scones. Then she tried to explain that  these weird triangle things are scones.



I don't know what the heck those are, but they are not scones.

They're delicious, though. I've gotten quite good at making them.


I made a colour-coded chart to make all of this food confusion a bit easier:



Also if anyone's interested, I am on my second round of [stronger] antibiotics because the first ones didn't work, and I also have a nice big grocery list of other prescriptions to pick up later. Apparently, I have contracted some kind of plague. 

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

hello friends

I'm still here; I know it's been a while.......

Between work, weddings, etc., I've not had much free time for blogging. At the moment I'm sick AGAIN and trying to remain both conscious and coherent while a fever addles my brain. Took yesterday off work, but we know how Bossman feels about sick days, so I am now back at the office.  

I am no longer sure what hurts and what doesn't.


Also don't think I have enough money to pay the co-pay at the doctor, so I shall have to remain sick until I get paid on Friday. Mumsy has not stopped harping on about going to the doctor since Sunday evening. If the fever doesn't drive me to complete insanity, she will.

Good times.







*~*an update*~*

Bossman, who is possibly the biggest hypochondriac that ever lived, chased me out of the office with the Lysol spray, threw $20 at me, and demanded I go to the doctor. According to the doctor, I have a "severe upper respiratory infection." Since my medical history shows that I am prone to going straight from upper respiratory infections to bronchitis to emergency room, I was prescribed very strong antibiotics. They make me nauseous. 

I give up. It is now ten past seven in the evening and I am going to bed.