Posts in category "Random"

Guffaw

Hellooooooooo insom­nia.

I hate my laugh. No, real­ly. It’s a com­bi­na­tion of my moth­ers’ laugh (a sort of gaspy, light, heav­ing) and Mike’s laugh (short bursts of falset­to squeak­ing). Someone once told me that it’s what she liked about me, but I think she just asso­ci­at­ed it with my sense of humour.

Simple Stir-Fry

Thumbnail: Stirfry 1

Thumbnail: Stirfry 2

I have fig­ured out the eas­i­est stir-fry in the world. One morn­ing I took my stir-fry strips out of the freez­er to defrost by the time my class­es were done. When I got home, I real­ized that I had no veg­eta­bles and I was too tired to make rice (actu­al­ly it was more of being too tired to clean the rice pot because it’s always a bitch). I found a pack of gar­lic pas­ta sal­ad, and threw every­thing togeth­er.

Ingredients:

  1. Approximately 700 grams of beef stir-fry strips
  2. One bag of Green Giant Garden Creations Pasta Salad (Garlic)

Directions:

  1. Pre-heat fry­ing pan to medi­um heat, add oil
  2. Add stir-fry strips and gar­den sal­ad
  3. Cover and stir occa­sion­al­ly until the pas­ta is desired ten­der­ness (should take about 20 min­utes, liq­uid should be a light sauce by then)

Note: To ensure beef is cooked through, add beef in pan a few min­utes before the pas­ta sal­ad.

The Taste

I feel like speak­ing tonight. I feel like express­ing myself in some way, but can’t focus on what I want to say. I feel like I’m total­ly addict­ed. I feel like shar­ing some­thing that’s com­plete­ly embar­rass­ing, like the face trace trick or the wing chun dream.

I feel like singing. I feel like shout­ing. I feel like every­thing is just right.

I feel like I final­ly have peo­ple I can hang out with. I feel like I’ve final­ly had a mean­ing­ful rela­tion­ship.

I feel like I can dream with­out dis­ap­point­ment. I feel like I can think with­out hurt­ing. I feel like I can admire with­out jeal­ousy.

I feel like every song is the last I’ll ever hear. I feel like I’m final­ly liv­ing.

I feel hap­py.

Music like Braces and Bruises

Whenever Trolley and I hang out togeth­er, whether it’s a car ride or a ses­sion of tow­er defense, we queue up albums that we both enjoy. Billy Talent, The Artist in the Ambulance, Sing the Sorrow, Give Up. However, there’s one song that he nev­er queues up, that he always skips with­out any­one else know­ing.

He knows that I can’t lis­ten to that one song off guard. As much as I want that song for myself, to mean noth­ing more than a frail voice and bounc­ing beats, I can’t give up the mem­o­ries that I asso­ciate with it, I can’t let go of what the song has come to mean.

And it’s only now that I real­ize that it’s bet­ter this way.