On February 14th, we celebrated a friend's birthday and joined our weekly "Survivor"-watching group (mock as you please, but watching "Survivor" with a group of friends makes for a hilarious weekly social event). So the observance of Valentine's Day was postponed to Friday.
Chad and I are both of a fairly even-keeled disposition ("low-drama," as our friend Jessie once put it), and Chad even takes this so far as to be unenthusiastic about holidays. But for my sake, because I love any chance to be festive, he's begun to enter more into the spirit of occasions in recent years. Our Valentine's tradition is to work together to cook something out of the ordinary. Chad's fancy alighted on rack of lamb this year.
with brussels sprouts
baked brie on crackers and strawberries,
and Nigella Lawson suggested a flourless chocolate cake (it did, in fact, have a "hint of pudding about it" in the middle).While working on this feast, we heard a Studio 360 about the brilliant mad scientist Nikola Tesla. He and Mark Twain used to shoot an x-ray gun at each other and make giant pictures of thier skulls.
This may seem unromantic, but to me the book I just finished today is even more anti-romantic. I thought I'd read Wuthering Heights before, but I remembered no details-- just a general feeling of darkness. Maybe I quit reading in the middle last time. I don't believe in desperate, violent love. Though she saves it a little at the end, and (*spoiler alert*) maybe Catherine's ghost comes back not only to torment Heathcliff but also to save her daughter and her nephew from him. Still, I was mostly just angry with the characters and hated almost every page.
Chad, on the other hand, has been living in the world of the Count of Monte Cristo. "I've given up sports," he said to me this morning. "I'm only interested in revenge now."
Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!
2 comments:
So much to say. First I would like to congratulate Chad on his hair and extra scary MLO*, well done buddy. Secondly, I recall actually enjoying wuthering heights which may have only been in comparison to Jane Eyre. Which I found inane to the point of being unable to finish it, which reflected badly on my Jane Eyre based test scores in 8th grade. Even worse, other than vague fond feelings I remember none of Wuthering Heights and was thinking that perhaps Heathcliff was from Jane Eyre. But no, some googling revealed that I am thinking of Mr. Rochester. So never you mind there. Enjoy the worlds of literature! Stupid stupid literature.
*mustache like object
i cannot tell you how much grant and i miss survivor nights! it's just not the same watching it by ourselves.
also, grant likes chad's porn-stache. :)
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