If I Could Only Cook...

Ho hum.  Nothing much going on here... except Anton buying up all the guns and ammo he can find (even though we can't exactly afford that right now).    He's preparing for the zombie apocalypse-- which is code for the takeover by a certain, powerful entity (although, he really does believe in a zombie apocalypse).

Anyway, as soon as I can convince Anton to slow down... which may never actually happen... I've decided my next investment will be a keyboard.  Of course I prefer a real piano, but since those are more expensive and more difficult to fit in a small space, I will settle for a keyboard.  I had an epiphany.  I have noticed that the more I practice the piano, the better I get... but I hate having to go to school to practice.  Partly because it's freaking cold here, and partly because it's only available at certain times that are not so convenient for me.

I've really taken to the nicer chocolates--the ones I put in Anton's Christmas stocking because it's the only candy he'll eat.  I now get them for me, for when I have those cravings.  I'm pretty good about saving and eating eating them only when it's absolutely necessary... the problem is that Anton eats them all.  I think I'll have to start hiding them... and the problem with that is that when I hide something I usually forget about it.  Oh well.  Who needs chocolate anyway.

I've been trying to plan meals and prepare for them.  So I marinated some chicken in a marinade recipe I found online that's similar to what Mom does.  Unfortunately it didn't taste that great.  And I wasted like 7 pieces of good-quality chicken.  I have also managed to ruin an entire crock-pot full of roast, and veggies.
I'm getting kind of tired of cooking food that sucks.  I don't understand, I mean, I follow recipes and stuff... anyway, I bought this frozen thing of Marie Calendar's scalloped potatoes and tried a new way of cooking some chicken on my own--without a recipe since that hasn't been working for me.  I made a salad to go with it and gave it to Anton to take to work.  I asked him how it tasted when he came home--I make him be honest about my food, ever since I only found out he hated the way I was cooking something for him like two years after we'd been married.  So he told me the chicken was gross, but the potatoes were the best he'd ever had.  I was a little happy (because he thought I made the potatoes) and a little sad (because I actually didn't make the potatoes).  It's pretty sad when the best meals we have are the frozen ones I buy after running out of ideas.  :' (