Timing is everything - especially in cooking.

Y'know, I've been cooking for myself for at least 10 years now.

I've been cooking for more than one person for at least 6.

Yet I still CAN'T FREAKIN' TIME MY MEALS RIGHT!

Ok, I'm exaggerating, I can - some of the time. Maybe even most of the time. Depends on the month.

USUALLY it's a big fat timing failure because I just jump in without having read the recipe directions, just the ingredients. It's a bad habit I developed that I've mostly broken myself of, so tonight, I thought I had it ALL FIGURED OUT, that it was going to work out PERFECTLY. I'd read the recipe directions and knew what I needed to do, and figured out the timing so everything finished at the same time... or so I thought.

Tonight's meal (which is already eaten or I'd post a picture) was oven-"fried" boneless pork chops and a new-to-me recipe, spinach and rice "pie".

photo by Cooking with My Kid!

So, the pork chops I had are THICK - like, over an inch thick. I usually cook them fast at a higher temperature, but I figured they could cook slow at the same temp as the spinach/rice bake and would probably need an hour to cook completely. So, brilliant time-manager that I am, I did the pork chops first, threw them in the oven, then started the recipe, figuring it'd be ready in the 30 minutes I'd allotted to give the pork chops a head start before throwing the spinach/rice bake in the oven while the chops finished cooking.

The rice part of the bake is a rice pilaf box mix that you have to cook before you assemble the "pie". Well, I didn't read the damn directions on the box and LO AND BEHOLD, the particular mix I'd bought took 25 minutes to cook, and needed another 3-8 to "set"! ARGH! By the time my pie was ready to bake, my pork chops had been in there 45 minutes and the pie needed at least 25 minutes MORE to bake.

Not wanting dried-out chops, I took them out to see how close they were to being finished... and they were done. Like, perfectly juicy done. So I took them out, and they sat there while the side dish took its 25 minutes to cook. *facepalm*

The result was actually a quite tasty meal, for all the strum und drang . The Hubs and I like oven-"fried" pork chops, it's a staple, and the spinach/rice bake was actually quite good! The Hubs is kind of finicky, and he had seconds! SUCCESS. My only modifications are to add a little garlic powder and parmesan cheese, and mix salt and pepper in before I bake. It's not BLAND, but a little salt and pepper over the top gave it a little something more, if that makes sense. It probably doesn't, I do that a lot.

The main lesson to take from this is to READ THE DIRECTIONS ON THE DAMN RICE PILAF MIX, and to take the chops off the hot baking pan if they finish before the rest... they dried out a LITTLE bit from waiting around for the stupid side dish. It's not the end of the world, obviously, if anything I wrote about it because even when I break my bad habits (not reading recipe instructions before cooking), I still somehow manage to mess it up. The name of this blog isn't merely to appear clever. ;p

I'M BACK(ish) and why Best Buy Geek Squad, ASUS, and FedEx can go suck an egg.

Good news: My computer is finally back! Yes, FINALLY. We dropped it off at Best Buy on Jan. 4th. We got it back Feb. 11th! Why so long? Well, here's the story as succinctly as possible:

• Computer randomly freaks out when I try to update my anti-virus software, as I'd just gotten ANOTHER stupid fake anti-virus program bug that took me 2+ hours to fix, ugh. 
• We have the fancy protection program from Best Buy, where we bought our computer, so we take it there. It's written up, and we're told it could take 3 weeks. =(
• We get an email a week later telling us it's ready - turns out the original clerk wrote up our order wrong and the computer is still out for repairs somewhere in the Midwest. 
• We get a call from the Midwest repair center because they have a question about our order - it takes 3 days to get the ball rolling again because we keep having to play phone tag. Turns out our order was written wrong (AGAIN) and the Midwest repairs thought we hadn't paid for services that were covered by our protection plan. *sigh* 
• The computer makes it back to the main store, and we need a recovery disk. Well, stupid me didn't realize that computers don't come with recovery disks anymore and now I have to get one from the maker; the Best Buy clerk tells me that it should be free of charge to get a new one (minus shipping costs), but turns out the recovery disk is 50 FREAKING DOLLARS! 
• At this point, this is the 3rd stupid mistake Best Buy's Geek Squad has made, so I ask to talk the manager (which takes multiple phone calls and phone tag). The manager is understanding and apologetic, swears as soon as we bring in the recovery disk we'll be moved to the front as a priority, maybe some compensation in the form of a gift card (which didn't happen). When we brought in the disk this past Wednesday, it still took until this SATURDAY to get our computer - despite being told it'd take 3 days max. It took going in again on Saturday morning to get it finished Saturday night. *sigh*
• Oh, but to make it worse: ASUS, the laptop maker, is just as stupid customer-service-wise. I couldn't find the disk I needed on the website, so I called in and got help (then found out it wasn't "free" like I'd been told). So when we ordered the disk, we paid extra for faster shipping because we just want our computer back. Before our order could ship, they needed our serial #; I got an email Monday A.M. asking for it, and the email said to simply reply or call it in. I replied within 30 minutes via email with the info. FRIDAY I got another email saying they still needed my serial #! I called it in and chewed out the customer service guy, and they assured me the order would go in that evening; it did, but FedEx doesn't ship on weekend so we had to wait for it to go out Monday. 
• Here's the weird/annoying thing about FedEx: We paid for 3-day shipping. The disk had to ship from Fremont, CA (about a 2 hour drive away from us MAX). The exact course our disk took was this: Leave Fremont, ship to MEMPHIS, Ship BACK to Sacramento (where we live), but is then taken to Rocklin (a town about 30 min from Sacramento) to be delivered. So it would take exactly 3 days rather than, oh I don't know, actually come to us early. Or hell, they could've called us when it was in Sacramento for 24 hours and said, "Hey, wanna come pick up your package and save a day's wait?" It probably cost 3 times more in gas than we paid for the "expedited" shipping!

So yeah, the Ballad of My Laptop is a long, complicated, utterly cluster-eff'd story filled with UTTER RIDICULOUSNESS. Not only do I not want to buy anything from Best Buy ever again, but I also don't want to use services that use FedEx ever again ('cuz they've never worked well for me, tbh, shipping always seems to take FOREVER). Add in the fact that my life has just been crazy lately, and the whole situation has just been an unpleasant, inopportune thorn in my side. *sigh*

Of course, it's been so long since I've really blogged anything of worth on this here blog that I'm wondering what I'm going to write about now that I have my laptop back! Sheesh.

Anyway, more to come. I'm aiming for at least twice a week postings, pending schedule and inspiration.

30 before 30 - Martha Screw-Up: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGGGGGGHHHHHHH.

OMG.

This poster will be the death of me.

Ok, 3 years ago, my husband bought me a really sweet, thoughtful anniversary gift: A poster with all of Shakespeare's sonnets on it. Romantic 'cuz they're all about love, and thoughtful because he figured I could use it in my future classroom. This was when I'd just finished my credential program and still had that thing, what's it called... oh, right, HOPE. *eye roll*

I decided that I'd hold onto it so I could frame it - didn't want it getting all bent up, even if I DID put it up in my classroom from the job I was sure to have and keep. (NO, I'm not bitter, what makes you say that? ;p) So I left it in its package, as it was in a plastic mailer around a poster mailer tube, so I figured it was safe, and I shoved it in our closet.

THIS WEEK I saw that Michaels was having a sale on frames, so I figured, FINALLY, perfect timing! I pulled the poster out earlier this week to get a look at it, remove the plastic wrapping... and the poster tube had been dented so hard that it had knocked one of the plastic ends INTO the tube.

WHAT. THE. F***.

Of course, because it was 3 years later, it's not like I can call the post office or poster company and get our money back. So I take the poster out to analyze the damage... and it's not torn, but it's really noticeably wrinkled and bent all along the left side. I show it to The Hubs, heartbroken, and he convinces me it's not THAT bad and to still get a frame for it.

Then I measure the poster this morning with a retractable tape measure this morning, and get distracted - it snaps back into the holder and tears a little hole RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE of the damn poster. I was able to do a little clear-packaging-tape surgery, but still. ARGH. First the wrinkling, now this?

It only gets worse.

So we go to Michaels, pick out a frame that has a thin black metal look. It says it's $30, but we have a coupon and a gift card, so we go for it. Turns out, it's actually only $10 so we figure, score! We ask the frame specialist dude how to hang it, he tells us to bend the little metal tooth-comb thing in the back out and put it on top of some nails.

I get home, I open the frame... and it's a cheap POS. The frame isn't together, it's 4 separate angled bars that you snap on and off the PLASTIC and corrugated cardboard frameback. *sigh* It takes me 30+ minutes to get it in between the two pieces, then get the nails up in the wall where I want it (which is just high enough that I can reach it on my tippy-toes, but I can't quite see if I'm pounding in the nails straight), then bend that stupid metal-tooth-comby-thing away from the frameback.

I pick up the frame, get it on the nails, and it's on but it's wobbly.

So I grab the side to see if I can straighten it, and it CRASHES DOWN AND TO THE LEFT. I let out a primal expletive scream and pick it up... to see that the upper left corner is now bent. The frame corners are bent, the cardboard frameback is bent, and the plastic has also cracked and broken off. It's noticeable.

At that point, The Hubs (who is already in an inexplicable MOOD that he doesn't really want to talk about) comes in to see what's up, and I'm sitting on the bed trying not to cry. He says I should take it back and get our money back, but I know they won't take it back; the wrapping's already removed and the metal thing's already bent. So I decide to make it work... but it just looks so crappy and I keep having to stop and whimper. No tears actually fall, just lots of deep sighs and whimpering noises.

I JUST WANT TO HANG THIS POSTER THAT HAS SWEET MEANING TO ME AND MAKE OUR HOME BEAUTIFUL BUT ON A G-D BUDGET. WHY IS THIS SO HARD.

So it's up, it's hung, and frankly, as long as you don't stare at it like it's the "Mona Lisa" in the Louvre, it's FINE. I'm just frustrated and dealing with a grumpy, upset husband and pissed that a cheap frame turned out to be a cheap frame.

So what did I learn from this adventure in idiocy?

1. Open your damn packages as soon as they damn arrive. *facepalm*
2. A cheap frame is exactly that: a cheap frame. I should've bought the bigger, heavier, more expensive one. 
3. The closer to the wall the frame is, the better, apparently. (I un-bent the metal hanging bit a little, and pushed the nails in a smidge closer to the wall, and it's sturdier now.)
4. No one is going to pay as much attention to the little details as you will. And when you're a perfectionist, that can be a really stressful thing to deal with. 

Trying not to make a big thing about this, but OMG it was the most frustrating ordeal. Now I hate this stupid poster. GRR. 

Martha Screw-Up: Only I DIDN'T screw up!

Psych-out! I'm actually sharing a SUCCESS, not a Screw-Up! WHOOOO!

Our friend tried to plan a last-minute poker gathering, and The Hubs and I were totally down. Then, literally an hour before we were all supposed to meet, our friend had to change venues... to OUR place. Now, we usually only host when we have tons of time to clean because normally we're not very clean. However, we've been maintaining our place since our last deep clean in November, so it wasn't TERRIBLE, just cluttered and needed a quick scrubdown.

So with an hour until our guests were to arrive, we managed to do the following:

• clean off the dining table (clutter picked up, wiped down)
• scrub the bathroom really quick 
• wash the dishes/ wipe down the counters
• light some candles to help minimize any bad smells
• pick up Little Caesar's and soda for the guests
• make myself presentable (changed top, took hair out of pigtails and into chic chignon, slapped on some makeup)

We had 20 minutes to SPARE, bitches. I even managed to throw up all the Xmas cards we received so it looked like I somewhat decorated for the holidays.

Of course, only one of the people actually showed up, but it was still a lovely evening. Also, I was incredibly proud of The Hubs and myself that we've been maintaining our place so we COULD pull off a last-minute hosting of anything. Considering how bad this place has been in the past, it shows a LOT of growth and progress on both our parts. I felt like an adult and an accomplished hostess, which is always a nice feeling to have. =D

Downside: We have a TON of Little Caesar's to eat because our one guest didn't have any, and we bought a cheese AND a pepperoni pizza. Urf, a little gross. We always buy a little too much food, meh.

Martha Screw-up: The guilt of hiring help

So as the average reader may have noticed, posting has slowed down here. The main reason: I'm gone for 12 hours a day, and I tend to spend my weekend doing as close to nothing as possible.

Now as you may have noticed in my profile (or I may have mentioned it before), I'm a teacher. High school, specifically. The school is an hour away from where we currently live, so 2 of those hours are round-trip travel daily. I'm also teaching all low-level classes, which makes for a very demanding day - I literally do not sit down from when the bell rings to when the bell rings to dismiss class. Yeah. I come home EXHAUSTED, and it's been affecting our level of cleanliness like whoa. Not that I was that clean to begin with, but still...

Another concern with me being gone 12 hours a day, and The Hubs gone for at least 10 (he has a half-hour commute, and he carpools since we're down to one car), is our poor sweet Daisy dog. She was seriously staying in the apartment for 10 hours a day without a chance to pee! We noticed she was refraining from eating or drinking until we were home to avoid having an accident (which, while showing how smart she is, isn't good for her). We finally looked at our finances and managed to find a neighbor who was willing to walk Daisy for half an hour every weekday in the middle of the day. We're happy because it gives her some fresh air and a chance to take a wee, and since we're paying her, we also have her take her on a good 15-20 minute walk rather than just out to the grass.

The reason it took us so long was partly financial, but partly GUILT. We are perfectly capable of walking our dog ourselves, after all! We are lazy people by nature, granted, but we draw the line at paying people to do what we should be able to do! Well, the welfare of our dog is what pushed us to finally look past our pride and seek a dog-walker, and Daisy has never been happier. She is FULL of P&V every night almost, because she got some attention and outside time that we couldn't give her when she needed it, and are too tired to give her as much as she deserves when we are home (we take her around our apartment complex at night and play with her, but it's not enough when she's alone 10 hours a day).

The point of this is, why are we so prideful? I mean, in this situation, everyone wins: Our neighbor loves Daisy and is a somewhat-lonely retiree who now gets paid to spend half an hour with a cute dog everyday. We can work without the fear that our poor dog is sad and fighting off an exploding bladder. Daisy gets out of the house AND human company, and it breaks up the monotony of her 10+ hour day of loneliness. SO WHY DO WE FEEL SO GUILTY?

Personally, the freedom it gives me outweighs the guilt in this case, and it benefits our "child" the most which furthers smooshes down the guilt level. But any other kind of services, like housekeeping? OMG. The guilt at the mere idea of it is overwhelming... I feel like I should be at the point where I WANT to keep my house clean on my own. It's not like the want isn't there, it is, but the flesh is like, "Do I have to?" Or, since Hyperbole and a Half puts it so much better:

Artistic rendering of my sadness courtesy of Hyperbole and a Half. Please don't sue, I'm broke and simply wish I was as talented.

I have a feeling most of you feel my pain. xD The Hubs is becoming MUCH better about the cleaning than I am, which A. makes me wonder how he's a boy who's 1.5 years YOUNGER than me and yet maturing at a faster rate and B. also makes me feel WORSE. If we could afford it, though, even once a month... oh man, it'd be SWEET. I'd feel a little guilty, but ultimately the stress release would be worth it. The Hubs feels differently, though. He's very prideful, and the idea of paying someone to do something he can do himself makes me twitch. Maybe when we have a kid and are even MORE exhausted he'll consider a monthly deep-cleaning... as it is, we mainly deep-clean for company. (So come November, this apartment will SPARKLE for Thanksgiving!) But still, WHY DO WE FEEL THE GUILT? The cleaners are willing because they get paid, we don't have to stress about it and feel guilty for letting it get so bad... ugh. It's a vicious cycle... and a cycle that shall remain cyclical until I somehow convince The Hubs it's not such a shameful thing. ;D

Sidenote: My mom saw our messy apartment this weekend and said it actually gets better every time she visits, and smells better, too! I wasn't sure whether to feel proud or still embarrassed.

Martha Screwup: ... I have a blog?

Sorry, folks. The radio silence is unintended. Teaching has officially taken over, now that I officially have a teaching job (should update my profile!). School starts on Monday and I have to get myself all orgamanized.

I intend to do a Foodie Friday post, though. In the meantime, um... Sorry?

Well, to make this a LITTLE more relevant than an "I suck" post, I should mention that due to the various stressors of job hunting, money hurting, and then finding out I need to start planning a school year in a week (add in the "fun" of being a born procrastinator)... the house has fallen slightly into shambles. It's not HORRIFIC, but the ring on the toilet is disgusting and the dust on the shelves is starting to look at me funny. Also, our fridge is creating new life forms in some of the tupperwares that I dare not open.

Dear god, I can't believe I'm actually admitting this. EEP. Well, I swore to be honest about my housewifery struggles, so here it is.

I DO have a solution, or at least a germ of an idea. I'm going to make it my goal to clean one thing every day. Kitchen counters one day, toilet another, swiffering the bathroom/kitchen floors the next... it seems less stressful that way. Cleaning in one fell swoop overwhelms me. Tomorrow is the toilet, 'cuz it's getting gross. I'd take pictures, but I have some restraint.

A walking Martha Screw-Up

All right, I called this here blog "Hot Mess Housewife" for a reason. Gotta keep it real.

So I had big plans for this July 4th. Big. HUGE. We were going to have friends come over, I was going to make breakfast for everyone (egg sandwiches and berry salad) before we went to watch the parade that passes very close to our apartment! After that, our friends (who have a great backyard w/ a pool) were going to host us and BBQ.

Woke up with my 3rd cold in the last month and a half. MOTHERF*****. So we canceled on our friends, and I slept for half the day. It turned out to be a one-day thing, at least. I'm still blowing my nose and coughing, but other than that I feel fine. Annoyed, but fine.

I married my husband for a reason, though: he is also not a good housewife. Worse than me, even - doesn't cook, lazy about cleaning, isn't interested in decorating the house... ;D He is also not a handyman, but dammit, he tried.

After the damn evil chair broke my back for the 3rd time, The Hubs insisted that we get a new office chair. So we got a REALLY nice one, and paid Office Max $10 to assemble it for us. They told us to pick it up the next day, it'd be put together first thing in the morning. The Hubs went the next day to pick it up at 5:30 pm... STILL IN THE BOX. YEAH. At least we were refunded our assembling fee.

So it was up to The Hubs to put the chair together. In his defense, he read the directions carefully and really tried, but it just didn't work. He actually got the body together, but the arms wouldn't screw in right, and he was getting SO G-D FRUSTRATED. Poor guy. =( I felt so bad. So we're going to call the number on the box (there's a label that says "DO NOT RETURN IT TO THE STORE" and gives a number to call for assembly help) tomorrow, and if all else fails, we're callin' a lesbian. (Seriously. My cousin is a stereotypical lesbian in that she's awesome with fixing stuff. She also likes to sleep with women.)

Yeah, we're a mess. I did have a small victory this week, though, which I'll be sharing on Foodie Friday this week. Just to prove I'm not constantly failing at life being a housewife.

ETA 7/9/10: THE HUBS FIXED THE CHAIR! He didn't even need to call the number, he figured out the issue and fixed it! It's so pretty and comfy! Of course, this now makes him NOT a Martha Screwup. Meh. I'm leaving it here.

Martha Screwups: My Black Thumb

So since I proclaimed this to be the blog of a Hot-Mess Housewife, I gotta be honest when I done f***'d up. I've decided to call these little anecdotes/warnings of how not to live "Martha Screwup"s. Get it? Like Martha Stewart? 'Cuz I am NOTHING like her. 'Cept for the jail time. (KIDDING, MOM! JUST KIDDING!)

I am having no freakin' luck when it comes to planting flowers.

Ok, so at the end of May, I caught a little sniffly cold, and my sweet The Hubs brought home a small pot of Parade roses for me as a get better gift. I aww'd, then the following weekend asked my stepdad (who is a MASTER gardener, seriously, he is BOMB) how to plant them in a bigger pot to keep them growing! He is thrilled I'm interested in gardening, so he even gives me some soil in a spare pot, and explains how to do it. I just need to go buy a small bag of soil, as he didn't have enough of the right kind to start me off. Awesome!

I come home, and the next day (Sunday) wake up with a cold from HELL. I don't think it was the flu, but it was an evil little bug. Seriously, I was still shaking it off the following Friday... and didn't get a chance to get the potting soil needed, and the roses died. Boo.

Undeterred, two Sundays ago I buy another little bush. Still need to buy the soil, though! I am a bit of a procrastinator, but I figure I'll get around to it!

Yeah, then our truck has to be put down (can't pass smog - it IS 15 years old!) so we have to share our car, and then this week was the 3rd tri-annual Back Goes Out 'Cuz of Evil Office Chair event... where The Hubs forbade me from lifting anything or even getting off my feet (and I'm not even pregnant yet! If this is how he treats me for a back injury, can't wait until I'm carrying his seed! Now THAT'S some gardening I can get into...)

Anyway, moral of the story is that my Hot Mess-ness has killed two rose bushes now. *sigh* I suck. That's $10 down the drain.

3rd time's the charm?

By the way, Mom, if you read this, please please please don't tell Raymond. I'm so embarrassed. xP