We did grocery shopping for ours. The roads have been treacherous, you see, and it was a good idea for both of us to go so as to minimize the annoyance of it all. We also had a nice dinner of — I’m not sure what it was, officially. My wife took French fries and the last of the thanksgiving ham from the freezer, defrosted them, cooked them up in a skillet, heated the oven, then baked/broiled them still in the skillet with a heap of cheddar cheese on top.
Yeah, it came out real nice. No complaints from me, let me tell you. And perfect, for the kind of weather we’re having.
I get that for some people, this is a day of annoyance and/or cloying sentimentality. I understand that, in fact: I feel the same way about St. Patrick’s Day, albeit for completely different reasons. To those people, I say: my genuine sympathies, but it’ll be over in fifteen and a half hours. ‘Tis mostly harmless, otherwise.
PS: If you forgot, there’s always Amazon.
I recognize that not everybody’s going to have an awesome day today (and that some people aren’t going to have a horrible day today, either); so here’s something that should hopefully make everybody chuckle. Sometimes companies try too hard, you know?
I remember how aggravating that holiday can be when you’re not dating. Heck, it’s a little annoying sometimes when you are dating. The continual suggestion that you’re not being nice to your Significant Other the other 364 days of the year can be a bit insulting.
On the other hand, I managed to get the steaks for tonight more or less perfectly done. They went on at room temperature and with just the right amount of salting and peppering to get a good surface on the stove top; and the I hit the sweet spot on the broiling time*. I know, I know: grill over coals/gas, or go home. It’s February, it’s windy, and I can’t grill for beans. Wasn’t happening, sorry.
*I did think about taking a picture. More accurately, I looked down at the remains of my plate, and thought Damn. I should have taken a picture of that steak.
I hope that everybody’s doing something special for the people in their lives. Well. The ones for whom you have reciprocally romantic feelings, that is. And I’m sorry if this is a bitter subject for anyone, of course.
Yeah. Yeah, this is why I don’t do Valentine’s Day posts, huh? Hidden minefields, my friends. Minefields.
If cleaning the bathroom is actually one of your chores already, then substitute some other necessary, but mildly tedious one. Anyway, just clean it and don’t tell her** ahead of time that you’re cleaning it. That includes cleaning the shower/bathtub and washing the mirror, by the way. All of this will take you half an hour, tops. Do it when she’s doing something else, then let her notice on her own.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Continue reading My Valentine’s* Day Life Hack for Men: clean the bathroom.
One where I actually followed Megan McArdle’s chain of thought here without once bobbling. Or boggling:
I invested almost four years in an almost-great relationship that ended with me, shattered and tear-stained, deciding to pick up and move to Washington. You can hear all about it in this NPR segment from a few months back, which they re-aired this morning. Or you can read about it in my book, where I delve into even more of the gory details and deftly weave it together with the sad saga of GM’s decline, which happened for much the same reasons that my failed relationship did.
“Seriously?” you’re asking. “Love is like … automobile manufacturing?” Well, no. But companies are composed of people. And people tend to make the same sort of mistakes over and over. This particular mistake is so common that economists have a name for it: the sunk cost fallacy.
Continue reading Quote of the Day, I Live In A Weird World Now edition.
I will now act in blatant contrast to probably the rest of the Internet and not be bitter, cynical, and/or saccharine-sweet* on the subject. It’s all frustrated romanticism, anyway… and, fortunately, I am not a frustrated romantic. Besides, I have a biography to read.
*Do people even really use that stuff any more? I suppose that somebody must.
What did we do?
I went out and took the older kid to the post office, came back, then spent half an hour standing in line to pick up our delicious Italian take out dinner; my wife bathed the younger kid so that I wouldn’t have to.
You’ll understand when you’re married and have kids.
From xkcd. We’re up at my father-in-law’s country comp0und (no, really), so posting may be light. It’s not that I don’t have Internet: it’s that I don’t actually have a mouse.