I know, I know, BMG is so busy playing with her new apartment that she has no time for der blog and not even the decency to talk about what’s happening in her new homestead. But wait! Hark!
What is this?!
Gen DOES have the decency to post what’s happening at the new homestead? Well golly, gee, ain’t that swell, Paw?
Who the fuck is Paw?
Gen has decency?
So many questions.
But first, allow me to show you what is, without a doubt, the most hideous thing I’ve ever cooked and then refused to eat. Ever.
Yes, that is a real picture. ‘Tis not your eyes deceiving you. Wanna know what it is?
I’LL JUST BET YOU FUCKING DO.
It’s what happens when you sautee peas, onions, potato dumplings, and…wait for it…blood sausage but neglect to recall that the barley in the blood sausage renders it fragile and prone to explosion and then the whole thing smells weird to you so you start adding random condiments and things go from bad to worse.
Yes. I know. Blood sausage. Whatever, I stand by it.
I couldn’t stand the sight, smell, or texture, and though I tried it, the taste was no better. The Boy actually liked it. Then he made me a grilled cheese on potato bread and I felt better.
I’ve also been thrifting, and managed to pick up a vintage black secretary desk that we plan to use as a bar for various moonshinery and home winery storage.
Thar she is. But what’s really special about this photo is the crystal clear reflection of my toilet. Behold, the BMG’s toilet…oooh! It’s not even hot pink! Ah, renting. Each day you break my heart afresh.
Anyway, I like how this thing is gothic and sorta spooky. It even comes with a skeleton key! The Boy calls it Sweeney Todd’s Bar. I call it a $4,000 Antique That I Paid $200 For.
Whatever. Both are good names.
After I checked out, the employee providing the hand truck dolly thingy was all, oh, I wanted that, I thought I really could’ve made it work in my apartment and I am way jealous and all. And then I was all, I hope you weep bitter tears tonight.
Yeah, I did. I said it.
Whatever, his coworkers enjoyed it.
And ovah hyah is some adorable adorable adorable kitchen paper (wallpaper? drawer paper? The possibilities are endless! If by endless you mean two.)
It’s peas and carrots! Isn’t that darling? Here, I’ll save you the trouble of thinking, it is, it is so so darling. It’s a bit thin, though, and I’m trying to find a way to toughen it up so it can be used as wallpaper on the backsplash behind my stove and sink. Any ideas?
God, I love you Etsy.
And here we are, ripening some green tomatoes on der windowsillenhausen. Which is German for “windowsill.” Totally. I know, my brilliance is so blinding, it’s like, blinding. In a matter that would cause one to become blind.
for those of you keeping track…
The Boy and I have officially been together for 6 plus years.
This doesn’t count all the time when he was all “Are you my girlfriend yet?” and I was all “I’m scared of committed relationships after the last one and could you give me another, oh, three months?” and he was all, “Okay, take as much time as you need but OH MY GOD ARE YOU MY GIRLFRIEND YET?”
The Boy. He is a patient, loving, persistent sort. All of his friends told him I wasn’t going to make it honest, that it was classic friends with benefits BS. I can’t blame them for thinking that. Dude, I would’ve thought that. But it wasn’t the case, and I’m so glad he kept trying, and so glad he understood my heart. The Boy? Thank you for not stopping trying. Thank you for being all mine and nobody else’s. Thank you for wanting me to be all yours and nobody else’s.
Most of all? Thanks for telling me the blood sausage stuff was good. I threw out the leftovers. You’re welcome.
© 2012, Genevieve P. Charet. All rights reserved.
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