I think I'm rather creative when it comes to cooking. My roommates, however, think I'm rather strange, unnatural, nasty, unethical, and a variety of other unbefitting and unpleasant adjectives. Some memorable dishes I've whipped together during the last little while that I think are great and they think are not include:

1. A philly cheese-steak sandwich on top of cabbage because I didn't have any bread. Oh, and I think this cheese-steak was lacking in cheese and dripping with salsa. A little unconventional, I'll admit, but nonetheless filling, and I was proud of my improvisation skills in the face of a food shortage crises.

2. Red bell peppers stuffed with tuna-fish. I'll actually be trying this one again, most likely. I rather enjoyed it. Just cut off the top of that pepper, whip up some tuna with pickles, shove it inside, and broil for a couple minutes. The tuna comes out warm, but the pepper is still crisp and crunchy. Highly appetizing. I'd recommend it if, like me, you are not a picky eater.

3. Avocado pie. I made this one last night and shared it with a room full of ward members. I told them there was a secret flavor and let them guess what it was. I heard pear, banana, pineapple, and all sorts of other nonsense. They were all amazed when I admitted what I had added. It was very good. Highly moist, and tasted like a lime cheesecake above anything else, but I think it's one of those things that just sounds weird thinking back on it, and I probably will leave in the past.

College cooking is fun. As I'm trying to stick with vegetables and meats mostly these days, I'm sure I'm going to have to become increasingly more creative as I invent dishes with whatever I can find. Here's to hoping for the best and not losing all remaining respect from any nearby roommates!
College Cooking

No, not that finger.
The finger is good for many things. Today I found pleasure in using my finger to:

a. Scrape the sides of the peanut butter jar to better access the junk that likes to hide under the curve in hopes of escaping my mouth. Don't worry, I keep the peanut butter in my own personal closet. It's like a germ-breeding hotel in there. If anyone would like to declare biological warfare on any exes, obnoxious relatives, or telemarketing companies, I'm your woman. Otherwise, you'd do well to stay away from the closet.

b. Stroke the shoulder of some poor man sitting in front of me at a basketball game. Then I realized me knee still had an itch and withdrew my finger at once. The confused glance I received brought me pleasure in a highly twisted way.

c. Click to enlarge pictures of my brother's friends. Preferably the attractive ones in foreign countries. This is not considered Facebook stalking. I do not believe in Facebook. This was an upkeep service, as this brother asked me to keep an eye on his account for him while he's away. That's what he said, and I know this is how he meant it. I was sorely tempted to comment inappropriate/12-year-old girl comments on several walls, but I don't think that qualifies as "keeping an eye on." Clearly, I like to stick strictly to the letter of the law.

d. Point at myself in the mirror, proceeding to wink and smile, then act shocked and flattered, and repeat.
Simpleton Pleasure #1: The Finger


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