this is almost like looking outside

[chickentimeschickenways]

Last Friday I worked an early shift at [large box store] so I could get the commuter rail up to Rockport, the town where I spent last winter writing a novella, doing art, recording podcasts, and having my friend over for dinner every weekend. Friend has lived in said town since graduation, so -- eight years? -- in an apartment which is both A. nearly small enough touch opposite walls with outstretched fingers and B. packed with books. 

 

Rockport is a wealthy little town, largely occupied by retirees and second homes of people who live closer to Boston, and their book shack at the transfer station (which is where you take your trash before some unknown entity spirits it away to an actual dump; this is a tedious chore in the winter when one has no car) usually has an excellent selection of antique and current volumes. With the very best of intentions, I acquired thirty new books in the five months I was there --

 

-- and in any case last Friday night was a sort of Holiday Shopping Extravaganza for all the (many, MANY) tiny touristy stores and art galleries up and down Bearskin Neck and Main Street, and everyone was open until 8 pm and had a tray of cookies and a bottle of wine with little plastic cups for their hoped-to-be customers. 

 

I had no wine, as my relationship to alcohol (as someone who occasionally uses said substance to tone down my wailing anxiety about being alive) is somewhat dubious. 

 

I did, however, determinedly pick out my target shops and Acquire Christmas Things. I personally find compulsory gift-giving gross, and with the possible exception of my niece and nephew everyone I have that sort of relationship with is financially better off than me, so if I'm going to do it they're going to get stuff that serves some other purpose -- in this case supporting small, local-to-me businesses. I got a candle for my paternal grandmother, a pair of gold-and-garnet earrings for my mom, and some small gidgets for my sister-in-law (who is probably just getting a package of small gidgets altogether). 

 

Then we ate seafood (I had a scallop roll, nom) and I rushed back to the train to get my tired ass home in time to work my long Saturday without too much sorrow. 

 

During the course of the night I inquired of my friend: Are people with partners shamed into eating . . . adultish food? Is that how this works? 

 

I did not bring up the fact that I have been making myself a small batch of cookie dough for breakfast off and on for a while (1 TBS butter, 1 TBS brown sugar, 2 TBS oatmeal, 2 TBS flour, NOM), though I was probably thinking about it, as well as the two nights I ate pastries for dinner.

 

She said she didn't think so. 

 

I am disappointed but not surprised, alas.  

Comments

[obstinatecondolement]

I had pizza for breakfast today, so you're ahead of me seeing as you're actually cooking for yourself. Also, I should really start thinking about shopping for presents... after my exams, I guess.

[chickentimeschickenways]

I have cooked for myself two (2) times in the past three months, so my high horse is extremely short. Also, I am fussing about presents because I am an idiot and I feel like I have something to prove to my family (I MAY LIVE IN A BASEMENT ROOM AND WORK TWO PART-TIME JOBS BUT I STILL . . . UH . . . SOMETHING SOMETHING LOOK IT'S A CANDLE)

[sebenikela]

Oh my god I'm totally going to make that for breakfast that's brilliant

I spent a week putting peanut butter on a pita because I was too lazy to get groceries so I FEEL YOU on the What Is Food front...

[chickentimeschickenways]

There's a Trader Joe's on the way home, so I eat a loooooooooooot of frozen Indian/Chinese food. Sigh.

May the power of cookie dough be with you!