Life Tip #329

When dropping off a resume at a potential place of employment there are certain things you should never, ever do. Ever.

1) Make a spelling error in the sentence describing yourself as detail oriented.

1) Criticize the decor.

2) Criticize the customers. Particularily their taste in regards to things they plan on exchanging money for in order gain the priviledge of taking said item home. Since that money would - in theory at least, if anyone were crazy enough to hire you - be paying your salary.

3) Use the word Satan. In any context.

Thank you, and goodnight.

A Triumph of Willpower (sorta)

I have been on what one might call a "yarn diet" this year. I inspected the scope of the yarn stash, noted how it was spilling out of it's designated "spots" and decided it might be time to cut back a little. So, I vowed to myself not to buy any yarn unless it was "souvenir yarn" bought while I was out of the city, or absolutely needed to complete a project. (Souvenir yarn, much like margaritas and cheesecake consumed while on vacation, absolutely doesn't ever count.) It has worked swimmingly so far, and I have only bought yarn during my trips to Toronto and Montreal. The yarn stash is slowing receding back to its designated places. All was going according to plan.

Then my Dad came to town, and before he left, he slipped me a little pile of cash and told me to "buy something fun for myself." Well, damn. What is more fun than yarn? Nothing is more fun than yarn! I needed to go to the yarn store to buy a couple of balls of yarn for a specific gift I wanted to knit, so I knew I would be in trouble, cash in hand, surrounding by soft temptation. I decided I needed to prepare myself: I went into the stash, pulled it all out, and looked at just how much there was and how much had already been designated to projects I really wanted to start "when I got the time". Then I marched off to the yarn store.

It was like a homecoming, I hadn't been there in so long. I wandered around and touched everything, squishing it's softness in my hands. I petted yarn, exclaimed over colours, ran silk and angora and bamboo through my fingers and sighed. Then I left them where they were, and only bought the two balls of yarn and the needle felting kit I needed.

Oh, and a swift.

Which was totally, completely necessary. And not yarn.

Bread Spam

I recently received some Amish Friendship Bread starter from a friend of mine. If you have never heard of this stuff, it is like a food version of a chain letter. Essentially, you get a bit of starter in a ziploc bag, mush it around for a few days, and then make bread with it, saving some of the starter to then pass along to three of your friends. Of course, every time you make the bread, you end up with more starter to pass along, so your definition of "friend" might have to become more vague, like maybe your dentist, or that scary neighbour two doors down. The easy thing would be to not accept the bread starter in the first place, but the experienced friendship bread pusher knows how to get you hooked. They offer you just the tiniest slice of the most delicious bread - bread that tastes like cake baked in heaven by little adorable angels- and then tell you if you want more, you will have to make it yourself so you'd better take this bag of goo or else. Since I now have four bags of goo sitting on my counter, so I can attest to the effectiveness of this method.

I didn't bother reading the directions on how to make the actual bread until I was about to start, when I discovered that the recipe calls for a box of pudding mix. Which seems odd, really. Do the Amish, with their disdain of modern technology such as zippers, really have boxes of instant pudding mix on their shelves? I soldiered on, and discovered a box of lemon pie filling in my cupboard, and used it to make lemon poppyseed cake. It is delicious. I am in danger of eating an entire lemon poppyseed cake all by myself, it is so good.

So, I must declare myself a convert. I will pass on the bags of goo far and wide, to all my closest and dearest friends! I will not question the pudding mix! The Amish Friendship Bread knows all! Now I just wonder if my hairdresser would find it strange if I brought her some bread starter today? Maybe if I bring her a slice of cake...