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How Sassy Changed My Life. Dear GAWD, one of these times I go home to my Mom’s house I really must remember to look in her basement for the oh-so-cool photo of me on the cover of Sassy. (Yes, I had it taken at one of those photo trickery booths at Cedar Point. I was, like, 14.)

Crap! How did I miss that the latest Buffy comic’s already been out for a week? And there’s another Gunslinger as well! Looks like I’m off to the comic book store tonight…

Curried Mussel Soup
When I stayed with my sister in LA last month, I was very inspired by the Mom-like way she planned out the menus for the week and then did one big shop for just what she needed. I know; it’s not like this is a hugely novel idea. But we’re lazy and we never plan, and I’d always end up coming home and surfing through recipes fruitlessly while bingeing on whatever was in the fridge. And unless the Snook felt like cooking something, we’d end up eating out or having takeaway and feeling useless. Well, not any longer! I’m proud to report that we’ve instituted a new plan and managed to stick to it for over a week. I’m responsible for Monday to Thursday, and the Snook handles the weekend. Last week I made turkey stew, burritos, veal steaks and veg, and moussaka, while the Snook went with burgers, fish fillets and veg, and shepherd’s pie. Which brings it ’round to me again… and I decided to step it up a notch: Curried Mussel Soup from Ainsley Harriott. Okay, firstly I chose it because the Snook hates Ainsley. He just really gets on his nerves. And I think that’s funny. Secondly, I’m still working on my seafood phobia, and I figure that knowing how to cook it can only help. So I stopped in at the DJ’s Food Hall after work for a kilo of cleaned, de-bearded mussels. The soup itself is really easy to make and it’s super low-carb, which was a bonus. I steamed the mussels in white wine until they opened, and then drained and shelled them (reserving the liquid in the pot). The soup had lots of aromatics: shallot (I had to use red onion), fresh ginger, chili, and garlic. We had some lovely saffron from Herbies in there as well. In the end, I managed to eat about half my bowl. I’ve gotten to the point now where it isn’t the taste of the seafood I object to. I mean, this tasted good! But mentally, I still have a block when it comes to eating slippery, scary-looking sea bugs. It’s like I can feel them churning in my stomach. No matter though; the Snook was happy to polish off my share as well as his own. I figure it’s just a matter of time and repetition until I can join him.

The Amazing Race finale.BAH! I soooo wanted the Beauty Queens to win. They’re so pretty! And they’re nice. And the other two teams were vile.

After the episode…
Snook: Okay, we’re doing the code-breaking thing. Answer the questions.
Me: Least trustworthy? Definitely Rob and Amber.
Him: BZZZZZ! You’re wrong already.
Me: Wrong? Who else would you–?
Him: Screw the questions. I’d put 1-2-3-4. And that’s the first one I’d try if I was the other person.
Me: That’s… diabolical and AWESOME! Okay, solemn pact that if we’re ever in a remotely similar situation, we both just pick numbers in series.
Him: Deal.

I know everybody says their own babies are cute, but seriously? My nephew is the cutest baby ever. I’m not even joking. And I’m “DELIBERATELY BARREN,” so you know I’m being objective.

Live spiders… IN HIS EARS! I’m going to start wearing earplugs to bed.

Double trouble.

This article about a DNA test that can tell the sex of a fetus at six weeks blows my mind. They test the mother’s blood for Y-chromosomes? I didn’t think the mother’s and baby’s blood intermingled. I didn’t know you could do that. Huh.