It's late, so this may come out even less sensical than normal. Or more nonsensical. ...See, it has already begun. Run now, my child.
If anyone's wondering why I haven't had much to say lately, it's because for the past three days I've just eaten dinner (and dessert, *ahem*, as opposed to including breakfast and lunch) of no particular interestingness and those bun-like dumplings pictured above in particular were a two-day spread. I walked back to my dorm on Tuesday afternoon after work, picking up a bag of 50 "pork and chive steam juicy buns" from Sun Dou Dumpling Shop on the way. Since "steam" is in the name, I figured steaming would be the best way to cook them. I've rarely steamed dumplings in my life, but if the label says "steam", then by baby Jesus' holy camel (sorry, I'm not religious...just ignore me), I'm gonna steam.
So, steaming? Heating up water and converting it into gassy molecules whizzing by you at insaaane speeds? Kinda sucked. It wasn't necessarily on the level of a vacuum, but definitely a small straw. And it's not that steaming doesn't work, but rather that my ability to steam is sub-par; I didn't cook the dumplings long enough. On the second night, I pan fried/steamed my dumplings, a method which resulted in fully-cooked, crispy bottomed juicy buns. Or semi-juicy, if the juice hadn't escaped through lesions in the dumpling's skin. "My god, this dumpling is injured! Medic! Keep the fluids inside...NO WE LOST HIM, OH BABY JESUS' HOLY CAMEL, NO!"
...Um, I'm going to move to another topic.
Oh, the title of his entry. Well. Ye know. Ye knoooow. Sometimes you do stupid stuff. If you're me, you do a lot of stupid stuff. You don't necessarily repeat the stupid stuff, but...this sentence has no meaning.
Okay, I'm leaving in the nonsensical paragraph as a testament to this late night blogging.
Wednesday afternoon after work, I went to the Union Square Greenmarket and bought an olive and onion foccacia...loaf? What is it? A slab? A rectangle? A tablet of wheaty delights? Well, I bought this hunk of processed, leavened, and baked wheat-based dough and munched on it while walking down from Union Square. All's fiiiine and dandy. It's not the best bread in the world, after having sat out all day, and it seemed kinda pooty that they charge $4 for "end of the day bread that no one really wants", but I'm sure not going to make foccacia myself and it was filling.
I've probably mentioned before that buying loaves of bread ends up...not so good. Like when that kid thought he was Superman so he jumped out of a tree to test his flying skills? Not so good. I have a tendency to eat entire loaves of bread, whether or now I'm actually hungry. Over the past few days of waiting many hours in between meal times due to lack of hunger and time, I actually became less hungry, but still retained my bread craving-ness...ness...I have no idea what word I'm trying to form but I think you get the idea. (On a scary note, I lost my craving for cakes and sweet breads for a while. It's like I wasn't myself. I was a mere mortal, a normal person with a normal sugar cravings.) I munched on the focaccia slab over the night, but at some point I thought:
Oh, this bread is too tasty, but I just can't shove it down my throat anymore. No more! No more bread! ...Wait, it's so tasty. No, resist! Resist the wheat! Even though it's so chewy and tasty! NOOOO OO OO O O, etc!
Yeah, I'm insane. So I took the remaining bread in the paper bag, folded the top over, put that in the other plastic bag it came in, and put the focaccia-remnant-bundle in the trash. Ah. Yeah. All's well. It's either in the trash or in me, where it would ultimately come out as poo anyway.
Yesterday I didn't get to eat my first meal until 7 PM. I wasn't especially hungry (which is why I didn't eat earlier), but I was craving bread. Alas, I didn't have any.
...or did I?
Do you see where this is going? Um. The bread! It's in a paper bag! Which is wrapped in a plastic bag! And it's on top of the trash can, since it was the last thing I threw out! Uh huh! It's not like in Seinfeld where George at that eclair out of the trash can, is it? Was that even his trash can? I don't know.
ANYWAY. *clears throat* Yes, I took plenty of food safety related courses and anyone knows that eating something you put in the trash probably isn't a good idea, but IT WAS WRAPPED, AND IT WAS ON TOP, AND...STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT, I KNOW YOU ARE!
I don't know why I thought you should know that I ate bread that was in/on the trash can, but there ye go. I'm a freak. And if you're wondering, NO, I DO NOT REGULARLY OR EVEN IRREGULARLY DIVE INTO MY TRASH CAN LOOKING FOR EDIBLES. It was just yesterday. For bread. Cos. Yeah. Wanted. Carby. Bread. Stuff. Sentences. Don'twannaform.
So it's funny, yes. But maybe it's just the beginning. Next I'll be throwing out food willy nilly and then deciding, "NO WAIT, I WAS NOT FINISHED WITH THAT" (I'm well aware of the large, white rectangular cooling receptacle in my kitchen, yes) or going to random trash cans/dumpsters to pilfer...bread. Bread! Pilfer! I like the world pilfer. Hm. So. INSANITY! Pilfer. ...God, that's a weird word.
If you've had a similar experience of whatever the hell I just wrote about, I'd love to hear about it. We all would! This is an open forum of discussion about really...unimportant matters.
[tumbleweed rolls by]