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Revenge is a Dish Best Served Hotter then HADES

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the bottom line is that I don’t make ‘em.

Blog post, over.

Okay fine. While I don’t make grandiose life decisions under the influence of champagne (mostly because they’d probably come out something like, “Be Beyoncé”), I do try to start the new year off on the best note possible. This isn’t so much tied to the changing over of the year as it’s about bouncing back from two holiday weeks of pastry-eating and never quite sobering up enough to drive.

When you start to worry more about whether or not there’s champagne in the fridge for morning mimosas rather than whether or not there’s orange juice for breakfast, it’s time to pull yourself together a little bit.

I kicked off 2012 with two main things that I wanted to work on. Between the two, I hypothesized (remind me to tell you about the multiple-year span that I used to pronounce hypothesis as ‘hype-o-thesis.’ Thanks for nothing, French Immersion.) that the spin-off effects would be equal to making about ten other resolutions. So basically you could say that I’ve already made good on a third resolution for ULTIMATE EFFICIENCY.

My first plan for the new year was to cook more of my own meals instead of just handing over three times my annual salary to restaurants, cafés, and bars. Aside from the pure financial benefit that would also help Scrooge McNewf off my ass, this would help me be healthier, get closer to what I think my body type is actually supposed to be (there’s an underwear model under here somewhere…), and most of all, secure time every single day to relax.

That’s right. I find cooking relaxing. Being completely scattered while dirtying every dish, pot and pan in the kitchen has become like yoga to me. If I get distracted with a new Emma Stone interview on YouTube, shit burns. If I decide to start going through work emails on my phone instead of paying attention to a recipe, I don’t get to eat supper. Cooking gives me the single-minded focus that I only get on airplanes nowadays. Except it’s even better…because I get to eat.

Now, because I’m a nice, upstanding Millennial, I need outside reinforcement to keep motivated with this. So, I’m going to keep updating this full list of new recipes I’ve made in 2012. Aside from this post, you’ll never hear of it again. But, should you feel so inclined, click over from time to time and see if there’s anything you like – I’ll get a button added to the blog at some point, for you. Now I feel like I have some accountability and you can be a creepy creeper staring in through my kitchen window without actually having to do so. Win/win.

My second goal was to spend more time working from home instead of saying I work from home when I really spend the vast majority of time working from restaurants, cafés, and bars. Are you picking up on the theme for my year? Basically you could combine all of my 2012 goals into just one: be thin and rich. Which coincidentally is not that far from what I would have suggested after a few glasses of champagne so maybe my argument against NYRs is moot.

(Moot is a funny word.)

Spending four of the five weekdays working from my home office as the Gods of Internet Employees intended has meant many wonderful things like more sleep, more time to cook, less money wasted on food, and fewer useless calories consumed in between mealtimes (“I’ll just call this lunch a warm-up for actual lunch.”). But more importantly, it has also meant uncovering the biggest scandal to rock this household since I realized the newf tucks his dress shirts into his underpants:

 

That sly sonofabitch (okay, that’s not true. My mother-in-law is quite lovely) has been keeping me cold all winter, taking advantage of my short attention span, my struggle to understand how to work our heating command center thingy, and my inability to turn daily observations into a hype-o-thesis regarding this blatant abuse of power over the heating system. And so we enter, END GAME.

Who’s coming to my Chilean-themed house party? The dress code is skivvies.

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