chicken sooooop
Apr. 24th, 2005 10:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7Chicken soup for dinner. Started making it yesterday, but then Darius phoned from the road and was coming with fencers to get wings in Buffalo. There was a 45-minute wait at Duff's and Dave and I said, Pff, Duff's is way overrated. (They have good wings, sure, but we only ever go there when visitors come into town.) So we took nine fencers to Bob & John's on Hertel Ave., which is where we go when we just have a jonesing for wings. It was empty in there, they were happy to have a party of 11, they seated us immedately and gave us good service, and the beers were $1.50.
So, we ate there.
Anyhow, it means I stuck my pot of all-day-simmered stock into the fridge, and then Dave made it into soup today. So I got home from a raw blustery cold, cold day and had homemade hot fresh tasty chicken soop, made from the rack of the chicken Dave roasted the other day. Oh so tasty.
(On a tangential note, I'm now going to plug my elfslash. Coincidentally I had been writing a slash scene involving Glorfindel, Ecthelion, and a roast chicken, which had nothing to do with Dave's sudden and unrelated hankering for roast chicken, but struck me as interestingly interrelated in some cosmic way. Anyone who wants Elfslash and isn't getting enough and doesn't mind my unedited stuff, do go to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
treigylgweith and comment to be friended.)
The Club was dead and quiet, and I did get some more writing done. A precocious adolescent Idril gets to shock Glorfindel. That's going to get a very quick polish and go up later over on treigylgweith. No slash, sadly, but implied. (I can't write slash in the Club either.)
Mixed news, on the Club: they have me in there two days a week the week after next, but I was talking to the girl less senior than me, and she was complaining that she was going to be in there soon, and I said Huh? and figured they must've put up another schedule. So I went and looked. Nope. But... I looked up at the newer girl's name, and there under Sunday was "12:00--Club". I looked down. There, by my name, under Sunday, was, "12:00--Club". Hm. Also, i noticed that I had six days that week, which they don't usually do. So... I'm guessing they meant to have me not be in the Club on Sunday.
I'm of mixed feelings. Sundays are totally dead. Fridays aren't, always. Sundays are mind-numbing. But you can get into a trance and do writing. Fridays, people actually want stuff. So...
Well, whatever.
Also, Jr. Girl and Cash Office Girl were gossipping that the managers are looking to hire another bartender, even though there aren't any hours available. Hmmm...... that means they might be looking to fire someone. Hm.
Anyhow. Yeah. Thought it was interesting. (One more person gets hired, I'm senior enough not to be in the Club at all anymore... and maybe I can move up to more money shifts... and maybe make more dough in the same number of hours... and maybe, maybe, maybe MAKE ENDS MEET HOLY SHIT! But I get ahead of myself...)
So, we ate there.
Anyhow, it means I stuck my pot of all-day-simmered stock into the fridge, and then Dave made it into soup today. So I got home from a raw blustery cold, cold day and had homemade hot fresh tasty chicken soop, made from the rack of the chicken Dave roasted the other day. Oh so tasty.
(On a tangential note, I'm now going to plug my elfslash. Coincidentally I had been writing a slash scene involving Glorfindel, Ecthelion, and a roast chicken, which had nothing to do with Dave's sudden and unrelated hankering for roast chicken, but struck me as interestingly interrelated in some cosmic way. Anyone who wants Elfslash and isn't getting enough and doesn't mind my unedited stuff, do go to
treigylgweith and comment to be friended.)The Club was dead and quiet, and I did get some more writing done. A precocious adolescent Idril gets to shock Glorfindel. That's going to get a very quick polish and go up later over on treigylgweith. No slash, sadly, but implied. (I can't write slash in the Club either.)
Mixed news, on the Club: they have me in there two days a week the week after next, but I was talking to the girl less senior than me, and she was complaining that she was going to be in there soon, and I said Huh? and figured they must've put up another schedule. So I went and looked. Nope. But... I looked up at the newer girl's name, and there under Sunday was "12:00--Club". I looked down. There, by my name, under Sunday, was, "12:00--Club". Hm. Also, i noticed that I had six days that week, which they don't usually do. So... I'm guessing they meant to have me not be in the Club on Sunday.
I'm of mixed feelings. Sundays are totally dead. Fridays aren't, always. Sundays are mind-numbing. But you can get into a trance and do writing. Fridays, people actually want stuff. So...
Well, whatever.
Also, Jr. Girl and Cash Office Girl were gossipping that the managers are looking to hire another bartender, even though there aren't any hours available. Hmmm...... that means they might be looking to fire someone. Hm.
Anyhow. Yeah. Thought it was interesting. (One more person gets hired, I'm senior enough not to be in the Club at all anymore... and maybe I can move up to more money shifts... and maybe make more dough in the same number of hours... and maybe, maybe, maybe MAKE ENDS MEET HOLY SHIT! But I get ahead of myself...)
no subject
Date: 2005-04-25 12:35 pm (UTC)