When I decided to start blogging about my life, I pretty much knew a few things would happen given my knowledge of myself: a) there would be periods of time when I didn’t add posts; b) I would probably give up a few times because I was afraid of being discovered and c) I would kill dead horses over and over again.
Beavis is a dead horse but he keeps on showing up and needing to be beaten.
I had a tooth pulled today. It was one that had been crowned many years ago and the tooth underneath had gotten decayed. I’ve managed to drive away everyone in my life that was close to me so I couldn’t find someone to come escort me home from the oral surgeon. Or I was too scared to ask anyone because I didn’t want to hear no. I lied about taking the valium that they had given me because they told me that if I took it, they wouldn’t let me leave alone. The surgery was horrible. I hate the sound of the drill and the feeling of the dentist forcing the tooth out. I wanted to get an IV sedation, but again – I would have needed someone to come pick me up and I don’t have the ability to ask for help for some reason. I’m not saying these things because I want attention or sympathy. That’s the last thing I want. I’m just trying to explain why things are the way they are and put it out in the universe that I know that I’m 100% responsible for the situation that I have put myself in.
Anyway, Beavis did a number of things that make me want to slash his throat. There was the food that he hid various places, hoping it would rot and smell up the place. There was the things he took that he knew I wouldn’t notice until sometime later – like the little round thing that goes at the bottom of the blender with the knives, the critical piece that isn’t easy to replace. Without it it renders the rest of the blender useless. Or the potato masher which I used maybe once or twice a year.
I can’t blame him for my stupidity in spending all of my money until next paycheck, but now I have a situation in which I need to eat mushy blended stuff and I don’t have a working blender nor a potato masher. I’m going to need to get creative. That is one thing that I’m good at.
So I’ve never made mashed potatoes with the mixer. but I thought I would give it a shot. Added the potatoes, some sour cream, some butter, half-and-half and turned it up to high. The butter was a little hard and kept on flying out of the bowl but after about three or four minutes I ended up with a nice bowl of mashed potatoes. My mixer is a really really nice KitchenAid mixer that today retails for about $700. I got it at a garage sale for $20. When I brought it home Bevis became so jealous because he’s always wanted one. That memory made the mashed potatoes taste so much better and made me forget the fact that I did not have a potato masher or a blender. Thank God for resentments.
So it’s Friday night in San Francisco. I have a good job and make nearly 6 digits. Yet I cannot afford to buy a blender or a potato masher. There is something wrong here. I’ve gotten good at getting stuff for nothing – people in this city (and in my neighborhood especially) give stuff away for free all of the time. Not nasty, broken shit but good stuff. In the past few months I’ve gotten an air ionizer, a toaster oven, a closed circuit security system, a coffee table, a queen sized mattress, a monitor, several hundred dollars worth of books, a filing cabinet, two telephones, some telephone cable, 3 working external hard drives, some specialty cables, kitchen utensils, a 1910 solid wood teacher’s desk and that’s just the beginning. A lot of the stuff I re-sell to help with the bills. It’s what needs to be done.