I don’t care if Monday’s black

Lendon and I are currently running a contest to see whose piece of shit car gives out first.  They are actually both running, which is a novelty, but they’re both leaking various fluids.  Mine was PERFECTLY FUCKING FINE until I got the oil changed.  Now, all of a sudden, the oil pressure gauge is jumping around more than usual, and bottoming out when the car idles…Google sez this is the oil pump.  Mechanic sez this is expensive.  Bank account sez “just dump some more oil in it, you don’t drive that much.”  It’s also leaking power steering fluid.  But you know, I can afford $40 a month for fluids.  I just want to keep it running for another six months or so…work is about to get way busier, so I will be making more money, which means I’ll feel much more comfortable about a car payment.  However, if the stupid car needs something expensive done, bye bye car…and it’s about at the point again, mileage-wise, where it will need something expensive.  Something oil pump gasket disassemble engine blah blah bend over and sorry, we used all the lube on your engine.

I only captured a couple of outfits, as my photographer is on vacation, my backup photographer was dealing with the phone ringing every 30 seconds, and I haven’t located the non-shitty tripod yet. (I also haven’t really looked. I mean, I peeked in a couple of likely drawers, but have not conducted a full investigation.)

Wednesday, I wore a new maxi dress that I bought during Torrid Haute Cash (i.e., 50% off pretty much everything).  I might order this dress in the olive color, also, although it’s one that will get caught in my chair wheels if I’m not paying attention.


The dress is from Torrid and is stupidly comfortable.  I’m wearing a 4.  I need to fix the strap length, I think…I can’t decide where I want it.  You can also see the spaghetti strap from my “bralette,” because I don’t think a strapless bra that fits me correctly exists.  (I tried Torrid’s, but the band is not wide enough for my comfort.)  Shoes are Birkenstock Mayari (but they do not have the disco silver color anymore … they have silver, but not the holographic silver).  I was twirling the skirt so you could see them.  My necklace is a birthday gift from Lendon.  Here’s a close-up of T-Rex:


An added bonus of holding it there is it covers the zit that won’t die.  I should really know better than to say things like “I haven’t really gotten any zits lately.”  It’s at that stage where concealer is pointless.  I’ve been dabbing some on it anyway, since it’s zit-curing concealer (allegedly), but it’s so far not really helping.

Today, I had a second-runner-up photographer.  She does the process serving & investigations for the firm where we office-share.  She’s thinking about blogging – I told her she should.  She has awesome stories.  It’s her chicken that laid the teeny egg I posted on Instagram.  If she does start one, I’ll link.   She took photos while the backup photographer was taking care of the stuff she brought to the office.

Today was a jeans-and-t-shirt kind of day.  It’s Monday.


The jeans are the same ones from Torrid I wear at least once a week (medium wash, non-premium, 26 regular).  The shirt is from Hot Topic, and is the same as the tees from Torrid.  (They’re owned by the same company.)  It’s a 4.  I wouldn’t call it “holographic,” especially not compared to my shoes…it’s really just a flat silver.  It’s a lighter-weight tee (like the Ursula & Mr. Rogers tees from Torrid).  My necklace is a little disco ball I’ve had forever and forgot about.

I wish Stouffer’s cooked faster.  I’m hungry.   (Yeah, you can microwave, but then it’s all cold in the middle and there’s no crunchy edges, and those are the good part.)  Blah blah I should cook real food.  But after a day at work where I had to go deal with the courthouse and all the weirdos there (I parallel parked LIKE A BOSS, which illustrated the dripping power steering fluid, FML), and then going to the grocery store, I hurt and I don’t want to stand over the stove babysitting something, and the real food I have to cook requires babysitting.  (Lendon does cook sometimes, it’s not like I’m always in charge of food.  Mostly, whichever one of us is hungry for something cooks it.)  The good news is, I was planning on making chicken and green beans, Chinese-food style, and I found the frozen green beans I like.  I like the LITTLE green beans, not the BIG ones, but they don’t always have the little ones.  But I found those bitches hiding out behind the broccoli.

There’s not really a recipe for this.  It mostly involves me tossing the chicken in a pan with whatever vaguely Asian condiments are in the kitchen.  Usually there’s soy sauce, honey, a little fish sauce, maybe some hoisin sauce or sesame oil or rice vinegar, Sriracha, ginger, garlic, etc.  I add ingredients until it smells right.

This is why I am not a food blogger.  My stuff doesn’t ever LOOK pretty, and I don’t generally measure spices.  I follow the recipe when baking (mostly), but with just cooking basic food? Pfft.  I think my current taco “recipe” combines elements of three other ones.  (I add veggies and sometimes beans and sometimes quinoa or something.)  I just need to make sure I do not start using phrases like “flavor profile” or “deconstructed [food item].”  To me, “deconstructed” means “I didn’t have time to finish this.”  Also, the “deconstructed” version is generally really another dish – like a “deconstructed burrito” is basically a rice bowl or taco salad.  I know, little Chopped contestant.  It’s not fashionable to admit you like taco salads.