What's for Dinner?

My sister Annie doesn't cook.  She also doesn't eat leftovers and she washes her hands way too much, but that's not the point.  She's been bugging me for weeks to make Cooking Light La Bamba Casserole

and has even gone as far as telling me that she'd pay me to make it for her.  Well, I was nice enough to only charge her a single cupcake but I did make it for her.  It's the most Duggarific thing that I cook as it's entirely made out of canned stuff like refried beans and corn, but it really is good.  If she knew how easy it was to make, she would have saved herself a cupcake.  I won't even mention here that the picture above looks a lot like vomit.

This recipe was really easy and a lot better than I expected.  I've never understood how people eat hamburgers without cheese on them.  Somehow, the Cooking Light Barbeque Turkey Burgers

didn't need it at all!  I made six of them and froze the leftovers and they reheated in the microwave and were still delicious. 

Since it finally hit fifty degrees in Chicago, I had to grill outdoors on my five foot by five foot balcony.  I have never really grilled anything barbecue before but the Cooking Light Barbecued Pork Chops were easy peasy and pretty good too!  Next time I think I'd use less brown sugar in the sauce, but this recipe was definitely a keeper.

Self-Depreciation

I am in the midst of refinancing my condo and so spent many frantic hours cleaning my place yesterday in anticipation of the appraiser arriving.  Me being me, I concocted a fantasy in which he would come in, take one look around and declare it the cleanest living space he had ever seen.  Yes, these are the type of fantasies that I have, which may explain some of the ups and downs I've had in relationships.

He arrived and I immediately began following him around, pointing out every single flaw in my unit.  You're reading that right- I helped him depreciate the value of my property.  What flaws, you might ask?

Do you see the gigantic hole in my bathroom wall?  That's good, because the appraiser didn't, until I pointed it out.  I had remodeling done almost two years ago and the no-good, ridiculous, possibly drug-addled contractor ended up walking out before the job was finished.  I am not sure why he had to pop a hole in the wall, but I've been staring at it for two years now.  I think it gives the place a rustic, country look.

In this picture, you might notice the single bulb in the non-middle of my kitchen ceiling.  Believe it or not, this is an improvement because for a year and a half, there was just a hanging mass of wires and a lamp plugged in and shoved into a corner.  Also note the bizarre outlet placement and the patchwork that needs to be done on the ceiling.  Again, if you ever need to know what contractor NOT to use in the Chicago area, please contact me.  

This used to be the entrance to my kitchen and now it is a lovely showcase of the back of my refrigerator.  Eventually there will be a wall there.  Also, at some point, the "Lost in Space" style tract lighting will be taken down.

So anyway, the appraiser came and went in fifteen minutes, never once mentioning how clean my baseboards were or noting the beautiful organization of my guest bedroom closet.  He also never thanked me for helping him take points off my final score.  I guess some people can't acknowledge a helping hand.  Next time he comes, I'll point that out to him too.

EDITED TO ADD:  Here's a picture of my old kitchen, just for comparison.

Yes, the new one is an improvement.  It only took six months to 95% redo an 8 by 10 foot space!  That's an admirable work ethic. 

Also, if you're in Chicago and need a mortgage broker, I have a great one.

My Minister Costume

I do look pretty pious, don't you think?  Or at least as pious as someone with D cups can look?

(Please ignore the gigantic rip in my tights.  I had to go to a wake yesterday afternoon and beforehand met my friend Rachel for lunch.  Because my life is a sequel to the Bridget Jones' movies (with less attractive English fellows and more humiliation), I ripped my tights and had to go to the wake looking like I was auditioning for a retro 80s music video.  I just define elegance and grace).

(Also ignore the dog bed in the background.  When I was a kid, as a "Wizard of Oz" fanatic,  I badly wanted to have a dog that I could keep in a basket.  My dog is sixty pounds and wouldn't be able to fit in on a bicycle if Mrs. Gulch came to drag him away, but I am living my childhood dream and he has a basket.  It can't be comfortable for him, but hey, a dream is a dream, right?)

(My smile is weird and has been for months because I try to hide my missing tooth issue.  Six more weeks and the whole stupid experience will be over with.  It still kills me that I didn't work a Halloween costume around it and be a hillbilly or a Palin.  Just a joke, Sarah!  Please don't call me out on your Facebook status!)