Just... keep me out of the kitchen.

So last night, The Mr and I were discussing our plan of attack for the evening. The dogs needed to go out, our thank you cards needed to be written from the wedding, dinner needed to be made and dishes needed to be done. The first step was easy: Take the dogs out. Done.

Then things got complicated. Neither one of us wanted to tackle the thank you cards alone and we were both hungry, but also... dishes.

So The Mr gave me two options: I could do dishes while he cooked or he could do dishes while I cooked.

We all know that I'm not a good cook at this point, but I really hate doing dishes, and The Mr really hates watching me do the dishes because he has "a system" for things and I prefer to function with... an air of spontaneity, simply just grabbing whatever dishes are closest and washing them, not at all thinking about what to wash first so that it can be used sooner or how to maximize the amount of space there is on the drying rack. Apparently this is irritating. I think it shows that I can handle whatever comes my way, but this isn't the point of the story.

I grabbed the recipe and set to work on making two personal quiches with a side salad.

Now, it should be noted that nothing actually went wrong during the cooking process, which I think is something that deserves attention. I did not cut myself with the knife (and I had to chop and dice many things!), the fire alarm never went off, I didn't add sugar instead of salt or anything! It was going just fine.

So remember that.

It wasn't until the quiches were out of the oven that things went downhill. Literally.

When they came out of the oven, they were obviously very hot, which I knew and yes I used oven mitts to take them out of the oven and set them on the counter to cool, so STOP MAKING ASSUMPTIONS. I'm usually very good about using my oven mitts because, as some of you may have noticed during Sunday Supdates, my oven mitts look like bear paws and they're amazing. PLUS, I can say that I took stuff out of the oven with my bear hands and it's hilarious while also making me sound like a badass.

So I using my bear hands, I removed the quiches from the oven and placed them on the counter and started making the salad, assuming they would be cold enough to handle by the time I was done.

They were not.

And here is where my logic falls apart. You see, I'm usually really good about using my oven mitts, but I was really hungry by this point and I just needed to transfer the quiches to their plates, which weren't that far away, so I was like "Instead of putting on my big, clunky bear hands again, I'll just slide them over with a spatula. I am so smart."

I am not smart, you guys. That quiche went down. Not only did it fall, but it, of course, landed upside-down and just splattered all over the floor, at which point I yelled "NOOOOOOOOOO" with great defiance at the universe.

The Mr: Why wouldn't you use a pot holder??

Me: Because I had the spatula!

The Mr: Yeah, but that spatula is way too small for the -- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

What I was doing, good sir, is proving that I could do this. Yeah. I went for it with the second quiche, because I "never learn" according to some people, but you know what, dear readers? That second quiche successfully made it to its intended plate. Because I WILL NOT BE BEATEN BY A SPATULA.

Wait. That sounded weird, right? Obviously I was being figurative here - actually, no, now that I'm thinking about it, I'm being literal here too. I do not want to be beaten by anything.

We've reached a strange space in my brain...

Anyway, I think we've all learned a very valuable lesson here and that lesson is that perseverance is key. And also that maybe I should really just let The Mr handle all kitchen things from now on? But then what would happen to Sunday Supdates?


Hey! Speaking of Sunday Supdates... This Sunday is episode 2 of Sunday Supdates, but it's only for those who sponsor me on Patreon, so if you want to participate in a fun, live Q&A with me while I cook dinner (which based on the above story, will be very entertaining), head over to the Patreon page now and sign yourself up! You can do this for as little as a dollar and in doing so, you help me continue making this stuff without needing to get advertisers or do paid content. Essentially, you help me create the things that you like that I create - and you get to chat with me, too! There's all sorts of fun perks involved, so what are you waiting for? Join me and all of the Awkward Ambassadors!

We got a new oven! ...and I'm already banned from using it.

So, Fiance and I got a new oven installed in our apartment this morning, and if you follow me on Twitter, this is not news to you, but if you don't, let me catch you up:

This was super exciting because our oven was pretty old and temperamental (in a bad way) and while I loved that it had character, that character was a bit frustrating, so getting a new (used) oven was hopefully going to drastically improve things so that I could bake even more things, and pretend to be a cheeky British person in a tent on the grounds of some castle somewhere hoping to win a cake plate. A girl can dream...

So this morning, my mood was this:

 

Everything was going according to plan. Until I got hungry and decided to make a pot of macaroni and cheese (the lunch of adults) while simultaneously attempting to bake a lemon poppyseed bread loaf. I think it was the multitasking that was really the problem. That and the fridge magnets... Allow me to explain...

You see, we have these magnets on the fridge that double as chip clips, and they are very handy at holding cute pictures of nieces, but my cookbook wasn't staying open to the right page and I desperately needing something clippy to fix that. So there it was, the clip I needed, dutifully sitting on the fridge, holding an adorable photo of Fiance's niece. I needed the clip.

So I unclipped the picture and attempted to set it on top of the fridge temporarily, but then a breeze came in through the window or maybe I didn't actually set the picture far enough away from the edge of the fridge or something, but either way, the picture fell. We don't need to start pointing fingers as to who is responsible here.

It should be noted that the fridge is right next to our new oven that I was so excited to use, and the pot of water for the mac and cheese was boiling on the burner that is closest to the fridge.

So Fiance's little niece fell from atop the fridge and down to.... well...

Luckily, she did not land in the pot of boiling water. Unluckily, she did land in a way that her arm was maybe too close to the burner.

Okay, fine, her arm was touching the burner.

Me: AH!!!

Fiancé: (from the next room) What happened?

Me: Nothing... everything is fine!

Fiancé: ...I don't believe you.

Me: Don't come in here!

Fiancé: ...why?

Me: Because I may or may not have set your niece on fire!

Fiancé: What?! HOW?!?

Me: WHY DO YOU ALWAYS ASK SO MANY QUESTIONS?!

Needless to say... I don't think I'll be asked to babysit at his sister's house for a while...

Reflections on Romance... WITH KNIVES!

I think you can tell a lot about a couple from the way they shop for stuff in their home. You learn about who is practical and who is...not. I am very concerned with things looking cute.

Fiance is very concerned with things working properly and looking nice.

This is most evident in our selection of kitchen equipment. If there are faces on it, or cute animals involved (as long as they're not the meal itself), I am totally on board. Fun colors?! Count me in! In fact, before Fiance moved in with all of his fancy, functional stuff, almost everything in my home was brightly colored and had silly faces. My spatulas look like pigs. My knives are alarmingly bright. Fiance's are all dull and silver. Well, they're actually not dull at all. His knives are frighteningly sharp, but you know what I mean. They don't make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, which I guess is a good thing if we were to be robbed. The last thing you want is for someone to break into your home and then you pull a knife out to defend yourself and the intruder is all "Aw, well that's just adorable." Then again, maybe you do. Maybe this is how we can find peace in the world. Through cute knives.

Fiance? He's all "Well, sure, the knives do all look like cartoon farm animals, but do they cut stuff?"

WHO CARES, FIANCE! LOOK AT HOW HAPPY THEY ARE! They double as knives AND PUPPETS!

And that's how I get things taken away from me and quietly escorted out of stores...

 

So yes, I think you can tell a lot about a couple from the way they shop for stuff in their home, but I think what's even more interesting is that the Fiance and I are completely inverted when it comes to our selection in romantic partners. After all, I picked the practical one, and he picked the cartoon character with googley eyes...

And we're both equally dangerous.

Just try and tell me you wouldn't smile the entire time you iced a cake with this.

I think it's fair to say that most of us are happier when things are cuter. Puppies. Kittens.  Baby Bunnies. Little kids when they're not being annoying.

Admit it, all of these things make you happier than say...

Grass. Flashlights. Junk mail. Dirty dishes.

Right? I'm right, right?

So, in my opinion, it only makes sense that when there is an opportunity to make something that isn't ordinarily cute even cuter, that opportunity should be taken.

Which is why I can't resist adorable kitchen items such as these: IMG_3770 IMG_3768

Meet Pastasaurus and The Grumpy Egg Beater (who has justified reasons for his grumpiness, I mean, come on... you're literally using him to beat his dead friends. It's actually kind of morbid when you think about it, so I just try not to).

This brings me to this past weekend when Boyfriend and I were out lunching and wandering around on this quaint little Main Street strip of shops on a Sunday afternoon like we were in some sort of Audrey Hepburn romantic film in the sixties or something. We strolled into a kitchen shop and my eyes kind of glazed over because cooking is not really my thing, but it is Boyfriend's thing, so I knew we couldn't simply pass by without going in.

As he bounced around looking at really expensive knives I knew he would never let me touch and pans that I couldn't understand why they cost over $100, I spotted it. The new object of my affection:

IMG_3769

A pigula.

And he was only $4. How could I say no?

Me: I must have him.

Boyfriend: ...seriously?

Me: Come on, you know I can't resist something this cute. GEB and The Pastasaurus need a new buddy.

Boyfriend: Fine. How about this: You can have your cute kitchen items and I'll have my practical ones.

Me: What, they can't be both?

And then I got this look that seemed to say "You don't really expect me to use a pig-spatula with any sort of seriousness, do you?"

So I walked up to the register.

Me (slightly louder than necessary): I would like this Pigula please!

Cashier: Oh, aren't these great?

Me: I mean, I can't resist something this delightful.

Cashier: And you know what? They're actually really great spatulas, too!

I'm going to put this one in the "Victories for Emelie" column.

And now I live in a hotel with a squirrel named Stanley.

It's official: HE'S ALL MOVED IN. His apartment is still in chaos, of course, but as of July 3rd, Boyfriend is a Connecticutian! HOORAY! I'm sure fantastic stories will follow about his adjustment process to living in Stars Hollow. I know that people were actually walking up to his parents while they were moving him in to ask all sorts of questions because this is small town life and when we see something, we say something. It's sort of like an airport in that way (and in no other way at all).

What makes this extra special is that he moved in over the Fourth of July weekend and it turns out that this tiny town actually puts on one hell of a fireworks show, so we walked over to the high school to check those out and I'd be lying if I didn't feel like the fireworks were actually in celebration of our own personal momentous occasion and not just the birthday of our great nation. It was pretty spectacular.

Also, now that we live so close to each other, Boyfriend thinks we should get Walkie Talkies. I am not against this idea.

Anyway, all this moving in and setting up apartments has gotten me all inspired to start doing stuff around my own house. While Boyfriend and I were on vacation, my friend Zoe watched the house and the dog and, being a chef/restaurant manager, she was appalled at my lack of a system in my kitchen, which is fair seeing as how my general process is this: "I need to put this somewhere... where does it fit? Ah! In this cupboard." This is regardless of what else is in that cupboard.

And the fridge is just a pile of cold things, let's be honest.

So as an early birthday present, Zoe came over yesterday and drank beer with me while we organized my kitchen. And now it is beautiful. IMG_3682

Zoe's personal favorite area is the coffee corner: IMG_3688

Mainly because it has this feature: IMG_3689

Zoe says it makes her feel like she's in a little hotel. I also think the fact that there is a squirrel involved has something to do with it because he is adorable. His name is Stanley.

So yeah, I guess this week has been pretty major. Boyfriend is living in town now and I officially live in a hotel.

With a squirrel.

Named Stanley.