Din-din win-win

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Typing this blog post, waiting for Delium to come over, chatting with the chef.

I feel like I want to blog more, but I have been having trouble finding time this week, and when I do have time, I have little to say. How about I just blah blah for a minute while dinner is cooking?

I grew up in a house where we ate fresh food, with lots of variety, and cooking was always happening. My parents had a huge vegetable garden and there was never a moment where something delicious was not on the stove for me. As an adult, I now love fresh, healthy food, so major yay for that. To counter that major yay though, I did not grow up to be much of a cook. Well, that is not entirely true. I actually can cook pretty well. I just don’t really love doing it. Whatever that thing is that people have who love to prepare a tasty meal is a thing that I do not possess. I can do it, and will do it, and I won’t hate doing it. I just do not think of it as something fun to do. It is totally and completely utilitarian to me. And given my druthers (druthers from anothers mothers), I would rather just not. To make things even more of a pain in the arse, my upbringing spoiled me regarding variety. Meaning, I gots to have it. The thought of making a pot of soup for the week makes me have boredom hives, and you may be thinking there is no such thing as boredom hives but there are if you get bored ENOUGH, and I am talking fall-on-your-face boredom. Kind of like how you are feeling listening to me talk about cooking feelings.

AT ANY RATE. The point I am trying to make here is that Nordic Boy loves to cook. I feel like this is almost enough of a reason for me to have been with that dude all this time and the rest of it is pretty much a bonus. I think people should be finding their mates based on the complimentariness of the cooking/eating preferences. I am only partially kidding because I LOVE IT THAT I GET TO NOT DO ANYTHING TO MAKE IT HAPPEN YET I STILL GET TO EAT FRESH DELICIOUS VICTUALS.

How’s that for half-ass blogging? Whatever. I gotta go. Dinner time.

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