I don't know WHAT has come over me. I'm pretty sure it's the Internet's fault. I... am an addict. I am a cooking-food-then-freezing-it addict.
Why is this the internet's fault? you may say. Surely the internet isn't holding a gun to your head, telling you to don an apron and wax culinary in the kitchen.
No, no it's not. Although that would make for an interesting story to tell at parties! "Then, when the gun was at my head, I started getting flashbacks of all of the highlights of my life... like it was passing right before my eyes. Memories of that turkey tetrazinni, or the cilantro lime rice & beans, or the dreamy pumpkin black bean soup..." and people would cock their heads in a slightly canine way, grasping at straws at what exactly to add to this very sorry conversation, as clearly they do not know how to communicate with a strange woman who dreams of dinners.
Uh, where was I?
I blame Pinterest.
I don't even HAVE a Pinterest. I don't Pinterest. I am not Pinteresting. (Nor am I interesting, apparently. See: This Blog.)
BUT! I read a ton of blogs. And I'm catching on to the general consensus that Pinterest is The Shit. And knowing the general gist of people (being that when we all love something we want to shout from the rooftops) I have noticed that it turns out that I DO Pinterest because people post blogs, tweets, facebook posts about their Pinterestsessss'. (<---- I'm annoying.)
So, since I read blogs and tweets and whatnot, I, indirectly, read Pinterest. Or whatever adjective/verb/adverb/noun I'm supposed to use. I am Pinterestingly Pinterstable.
So this has affect a few things: my grocery shopping, my freezer space, and my dishwashing load.
Grocery shopping, I don't mind. In fact? I actually love to grocery shop, as long as she* isn't with me. She** does not do well at the grocery store. She*** makes me taker her out of the cart and carry her, while I push the cart one-handed and sweat profusely, not because it's hard manual work, but because I instantly fear that other people in the grocery store are judging me for letting my 1 year old rule my every move, and also judge me for being annoying and running into their carts, or offending their ears when she**** inevitably starts to whine because really, what 1 year old likes to grocery shop? Except when we stop to look at the 56,895 gold fish crammed into those tiny tanks in the pet area, then she***** looooooves to grocery shop. Or when we fiiiinally get to Penny the Pony (who is truly named Sandy the Pony, but she only costs 1 cent to ride, so I assumed her name was Penny until I saw the name Sandy painted on the bottom of the pony, but still in my head think "Let's go ride Penny! Shoot! No, Sandy!") at the very end of the shopping trip, then she****** reeeeaaaalllllllly goes bananas for grocery shopping.
Uhhh... where was I? (Again?)
My grocery list grows exponentially with the number of decadent recipes I ogle over on the Internet. Like I said, this part I actually like.
Then, my freezer space. See, I want to make like 10 recipes a week, which is just plain old dumb for 2.5 people. I probably only need to make 3, 4 tops, as leftovers and PB&J can sustain us for the rest of the days in the week. Except, what ends up happening is I make dinner, then.... I SHIT YOU NOT.... I make another dinner, JUST TO FREEZE. ALL BECAUSE OF PINTEREST!!
My freezer is like a fat guy in a little coat. You know what I mean? It's busting at the seams, barely closing, I have virtually every one of my tupperware containers taken up by a frozen block of soup/casserole/side dish in my freezer. Oh, plus a turkey from Christmas 2010 from Nick's work. (Side note: I find it very bizarre that employers hand out frozen birds to people for Christmas? What if we were vegetarian, or ate only organic? Am I being picky?)
Lastly, with twice the amount of cooking, that's twice the amount of dishwashing. My hands are pretty much pruny, even in the middle of the day when I haven't scrubbed a dish in 18 hours. Lotion application is near hourly due to the dry skin caused by the constant nightly dishwashing. I'm about thisclose from investing in Burt's Bees, is what I'm saying. You should too.
So... anyone know if Intervention is still casting?
And now, for the * post scripts (aka "how cute is my kid"):
(Twenty minutes later...) Oh shoot, nevermind. Cannot for the everloving life of me find my flip cam, which is my only means for getting my pics off my camera and onto the computer. I'm so, like, 2004 when it comes to technology.
Instead, here's an oldie but goodie: