Things I don’t know what to do with . . .

Please just let me get this out of my system. Sometimes I accumulate bits that can’t be spun into blogs or articles, but I have to do SOMETHING with them. They just sit around, taunting me for my inability to use them:

* Recently I dreamed that I was told my baptism didn’t “take,” and I had to go and be re-baptized at the customer service counter at Trader Joe’s. (I woke up laughing.)

* Embarrassing food incident: I once made a Chinese dish on a first date that came out looking like the heads of unborn baby birds (wontons filled with a spinach mixture). The guy only called me once more: to say he didn’t want to see me again.

* A few years ago, my friend, Cindy, received a steak-of-the-month Christmas gift from her boss, and she was plenty excited by the prospect of receiving regular shipments of meat to her door. On the day the first shipment arrived, she rushed home from work and up the steps to where the package awaited her on the porch. A neighborhood tom cat had taken a righteous whiz on the box. The inside packaging was well sealed and the food uncontaminated, but still . . . Cindy’s response is unprintable.

* And then there was this strange lemon I got a couple of years ago. I’m relying on that picture-paints-a-thousand-words adage for this one:

Thanks for indulging me. In the future I’ll try to refrain from talking about urination in my (mainly) food blog. Peace out!