This all started yesterday, when I got a hankering for a grilled cheese sandwich. This seemed like a simple task: I had the stuff. Might as well go and make one, right? Wrong. First, I had to work myself up to it, making sure it was truly my heart's desire (read: I was busy on AIM). Then I had to do exhaustive research so that I could make the informed decision (read: I spent ten minutes reading the Wiki article about grilled cheese) and briefly wishing I were in the UK, where they actually have dedicated grilled cheese-making machines (they probably do in the US, too, I just haven't bothered looking), the dude who has been doing our home renovations showed up, and for some reason, I didn't want him seeing me make grilled cheese. So I put it off.
Many hours later, in the middle of night, I was once again ready to tackle this task. Only in a fit of insanity, my grandmother declared our house a "no frying pan" zone, and the only thing I had to use was an electric skillet...which had been used for our stir-fry dinner and was soaking. Okay, no grilled cheese for me last night.
Today, I got it in my head to make grilled cheese once again. I scrubbed and scrubbed at the skillet to make it shine, greased it with pancoat, and assembled my sandwiches.
Electric skillets are not dedicated grilled cheese making machines.
So after that epic fail (note: that was actually attempt number three. The other two you can see the remnants on) and starting to wonder if I was physically incapable of making a grilled cheese sandwich and thus was a failure at life, I tried one more time.
This time, Liz assisted.
Since I did nothing different from the other attempts when making this one, I can't figure out what caused the other three to fail so badly. I can only conclude the presence of a doll is required to make a good grilled cheese sandwich.
Perfection at last.
I decided that since only one sandwich survived, I'd supplement the meal with tomato soup.
Liz assisted in this as well. Considering the tomato soup sucked, I guess a doll's presence is discouraged when making tomato soup. (Also, note the fact that my kitchen is missing a wall. That's one of the renovations I mentioned earlier.)
And thus, it was lunch.
So after all of that rigamorale, how was it? The sandwich was okay. The tomato soup sucked, as I mentioned. All in all, C-, probably won't do again any time soon. Not when I have enough ramen to get me through the apocalypse in my cupboard.
Regarding things not related to the state of my lunch, anyone on my flist read/own the Doctor Who novels? I have one (Feast of the Drowned, which is Ten and Rose), and
Also, I need a Jack/Ianto bunny for