Yesterday was a smashing success, at least in terms of units of leftovers generated. Bryan's brother Rich showed up with a smoked turkey AND a pork roast to go with our ham and taters and yams and rolls and Ohio Greenbean Casserole.

I've decided maybe now I DO like ham, at least if it's prepared the way I did yesterday, which is to slightly overcook it because the timer keeps freezing up and I accidentally singed the outside that adds more deliciousness per a scientific formula, which I have prepared for you here:

Broken oven door + turned up oven temp to compensate + overcooking = yummy ham

I am now attempting to make ham chowder, which I will achieve (I hope) by boiling the meaty ham bone in some water and stirring in creamed corn and cream of mushroom soup. This is a loose recipe I put together after staring at the internet for a few minutes and then opening the fridge and laughing at the contents. We have lots of food in leftover form, yes, but aside from actual INGREDIENT style things...well...not so much. I might smash my yams into sweet potato pie and see how that turns out.

I was just doing a little blog reading while waiting for my ham bone to fall apart, and laughing with amusement to myself over peoples' profiles. I love reading how people describe themselves. I have a feeling that we're all pretty wrong about the whole thing. For example, I would describe myself as a lady of average height who compensates for that by being kind of loud and obnoxious, and Lovell has described me as being a mix of Bender from Futurama and Randall from Clerks. Well...wait, actually those descriptions kind of go together pretty well, don't they? Anyway, I was thinking that we all need to write other peoples' profiles for them. Then we'd have a lot less of this "I'm kinda punk because I listen to kOrn" bullshit out there.

You know what else is bullshit? Going back to work tomorrow. I've been having the time of my life doing absolutely nothing and eating every second of my waking hours. I could do this forever. But then who will do MY demanding job of pushing paper from one pile to the next with absolutely no regard for quality of work done? Responsibility is a bitch.