Whilst Living Alone

I've picked up lots of skills and have learned many lessons whilst living alone.

***WARNING: These next three paragraphs are off topic, but i couldn't stop myself! This off topic rant kind of makes this blog a twofer, two topics in one blog! You should probably be excited! (I know you probably aren't which is why i keep ending each sentence in an exclamation mark!)

I was about to type "while" in my opening sentence but "whilst" ended up in my head and I couldn't resist using it even though i don't really know what it means. It has so much more oomph than its more common cousin "while". Let's find out if they are both correct. I wouldn't want to be making any grammatical mistakes, that would be embarrassing.

Wikipedia says: "While" is a word in the English language that functions both as a noun and as a subordinating conjunction. Its meaning varies largely based on its intended function, position in the phrase and even the writer or speaker's regional dialect. With exception to its form as a noun, it is synonymous with the word "whilst", a form considered archaic outside the United Kingdom.

The American Heritage Guide writes that, "while using whilst runs the risk of sounding pretentious, it can sometimes add a literary or ironically formal note to a piece of writing."

Ahhh HA! Exactly what i was looking for! I love running the risk of sounding pretentious. In fact, I strive for it. Even that last sentence with its "in fact" sounded pretentious! I can't stop myself if i tried. And why would i try? I think they were a bit strong in calling it archaic. I reckon old school would be a more fitting, less prejudicial term. Anyhow, let it be decreed that the word 'whilst' is OK in my books, and yours too, if you know what's good for you. End of Word Of The Day interlude.***

Let me begin again. I recently read a book called The Girl's Guide to Absolutely Everything. I call it the Bible. This book has everything a young woman needs to know about money, work, health, relationships and life in general. It covers off what to do if you forget someones name (i prefer the sneaky way- introducing them to someone else in order to get them to say their name again, that or stealing their wallet and checking their ID), how to properly clean your shower (naked, duh), how to combat Crying at work (work is about Facts, not Feelings!) and a million other things I am glad to know. It made me think of all the stuff i had to learn the hard way when i moved out on my own.

Don't get me wrong, living alone is fun. I don't have to share any of stuff with anyone. I can eat whatever i want, whenever i want. I sleep whenever i want, wherever i want (i like to get even wear on all my sleepable surfaces, so i often nap on my couch and sleep in my guest bedroom). I can decorate and redecorate as often as i like, however i like. I can listen to my music with my headphones in and not have to worry about someone sneaking up on me and scaring me half to death. The perks are endless! Unfortunately, so are the downfalls.

I quickly learned that pickle jars are Shelly-proof and that not having a Glenn around to open things makes life tricky. I've since taken to asking friends to open up any new jars when they come over so I don't have to struggle frustratedly to fill my garlic dill pickle craving.

In the home renovations department, I've learned that crying and stomping your feet is not effective when there is nobody around to hear you. But with the help of Google and Home Depot I've installed light fixtures, regrouted tile, refinished furniture, unclogged sinks and how and when to call a professional tradesman (or more often, Mommy & Daddy) to come fix my mess. Luckily, I have a particular knack for getting Good Looking Male Tradesmen to come to the rescue, which makes the whole Epic Fail thing bearable in the end.

I've learned to use a basket instead of a buggy at the grocery store, so that I only buy what I can carry in one trip. Anything more than a basket full is more than I need. I've done the trips where I go grocery-crazy and forget that rule (eg. every trip to Costco I've ever gone on). Then I'm faced with the task of figuring out how to get the groceries arranged on my hands, shoulders and arms in the least painful manner. Once i manage that I have to get them through one fire door with a key followed by a second fire door, four flights of stairs, another fire door and then my condo door which I always open to an Escaping Kitten who must be corralled before a Complaining Neighbour encounter occurs. Lesson Learned, only buy what you can carry...unless you're OK with making two trips (for the Record- I am not). Buggy equals bad. Cart equals crap.

I've learned that there's nobody to blame but yourself when:

• your clothes get ruined in the washer 
• the bills don't get paid
• your plants die
• the lid was left off the nail polish and it spilled all over the floor
• or you run out of milk and/or toilet paper

I've learned that responsibility is a bitch, but running out of TP is worse!

the ultimate twofer.

I'd like to tell you about my Thursday night twofer. But first I feel like I must explain Twofer or else you might miss the point. I wasn't sure how to define it as it's a fake word, so I hit google for some research. Nothing but cold hard factoids for this blog.

My first find was a widely trusted source, especially for trendy words and phrases. Here's what Urban Dictionary has to say: A Twofer is when you get two things for the effort, price, time, or space of one.
I feel like one source isn't enough for such crucial information, and I don't want my bibliography to look too scarce so I checked out a site that's a little more serious, and has a bit more clout. TheFreeDictionary.com reports that Twofer is an informal noun and defines it as: An offer, a deal, or an arrangement in which a single expense yields a dual return.
OK, now that I feel like we are now on the same page, let's move on to the point of my story. A couple of weeks ago I stumbled upon a recipe for Oreo Stuffed Chocolate Chip Cookies. BINGO! Twofer, i thought to myself. A cookie within a cookie, oh my god! Both the recipe title and accompanying pictures were enticing, however I decided to pass on it as I had oatmeal raisin cookies on my baking agenda.

This recipe haunted me for the next two weeks. I thought about it every time i thought about cookies (hourly) and each time i was at the grocery store. Finally I gave in and picked up the necessary ingredients. I decided yesterday that it was time to get project OSCCC underway. Today is Performance Evaluation day at work so I reckon everyone will appreciate a cookie (or two).

There is nothing much to say about the recipe itself, it's more about the assembly process. Essentially you take two scoops of cookie dough and smush it around an oreo. As per my usual insaneness I spent way too much time in front of the oven watching the first batch cook. I sit in anxiously hoping the cookies won't spread into each other. Nothing kills me more than cookies that touch when baking, i think that's a leftover fear from when I used to hate my food touching on my plate. My fears are not realized, the spread is minimal. The cookies come out nice and high and you can just tell that there's something magical about them. But until you bite or cut one in half the magicalness stays a secret. Of course I had to taste test and they are scandalously and deliciously delightful. I will have to put a sign up near the plate at work warning everyone that they are a Diet Wrecker. Five bucks says they're all gone by lunch time.

PS, the recipe came from this lovely blog called Picky Palate, here's the link: http://picky-palate.com/2011/01/06/oreo-stuffed-chocolate-chip-cookies/