I Killed The Chicken…Twice

As I awoke this morning, I felt the sweet feeling of health. Well, yes, my throat still prickles and I have a bit of a fever, but I am out of the grave, which is delightful. I had made myself a list of things to do today, and I groaned as I saw laundry on the top of the list. I don’t mind doing laundry, but it scares me. As the cycle comes to a close, the machine begins to scream and whine and vibrate as if it is giving birth to Satan’s baby–a truly horrifying sound. I am sure that the neighbors think I am making a ritual sacrifice to the goddess Shiva, but it’s just dirty clothing.

I really would like to go to London sometime before Mother and Jessica and Delores get here to take me home, but now, I’m being dragged by my DNA to Cornwall. Genetic testing has placed my father’s side of the family in the coastal area of Cornwall in the 1540s. It is a truly lovely place with a nice climate. The waters are the same waters that warm the Atlantic  around Southern Florida, so the ocean is very nice. I hope to go soon. They have a lovely castle on an island and stuff, so, yeah.

Then I looked high and low all over my apartment for an eraser. The pencil that I have was without one and I needed one rather desperately. Nowhere in the entire apartment is there an eraser, so, I had to go all the way to the Monoprix, which is a twenty minute walk. I didn’t mind too much since it was very nice today. Unlike the weather in Iowa which I’ve heard is just lovely the past few days!

I got my eraser, but looked around the stationary section a bit more. Notebooks here are bizarre. They don’t have any that are lined like we are used to, they are lined in blue like we are used to, but between ever blue line are four tiny red lines. I don’t know why, but all of them are the same. I didn’t get one. Now, I must express my love of children’s mechanical pencils. These are the most ridiculous devices, but they are amazing to write with. I have written about them before, but I’ll do it again. The lead is incredibly thick, it has a big grip, that then tapers to nothing at the top. It fits in your hand as if it were molded from Gods own hands for my writing comfort. It also makes my handwriting look nicer.

Then I bought a chicken, because they are tasty. I got home and popped it in the oven and then set about organizing my tool kit. The kit itself weighs probably fifty pounds, so this was no easy task. There are knives of every length and variety, accessories, tiny electrical things, whisks, things that I don’t know what they are, a corkscrew…anyway, the kit was covered completely in flour from two weeks at school, so I spent a good hour getting it back to looking new.

As I folded up the kit, I noticed on the floor, a plastic wrapper. Inside of this demonic piece of plastic film was a scraper! I don’t know where it came from, but I have been looking for this stupid scraper for the past two weeks. I have been having to borrow them from my classmates and look like an idiot for losing mine. I don’t understand where it could have come from, but I’m glad to have it now.

Then, I organized my recipe folder. The French really love page protectors. At Monoprix, there was an entire aisle devoted to them. So, I bought some since my pages were being covered in butter and lemon zest and other things that are filthy.

Then I had my chicken, which for some reason, was about as moist as the surface of the moon. It was not that great, so I made some chicken broth with a bouillon cube, which made it edible, but still not that good.

I’m going to bed now, since I want to go on a tour of Notre Dame tomorrow. So, bye…

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