ZOMG FRIDAY!

So my attempt at catchy, alliterative, Friday blog posts has failed. Crash and burn.

This post in general will probably be a crash and burn, because it's 4:17 on Friday afternoon, AND I'M READY TO GTFO OF THIS OFFICE.

Word.

I got 9 tank tops at Old Navy for $19.62. I lurve when their tanks go on sale... Because I pretty much live in them during the summer months. However, they're mostly all white or black or gray, since they were sold out of my size in the colored ones. I'm hoping they'll get more in soon, so I can just exchange them. Lame, I know.

This weekend will be pretty boring. Skip will be working 984 hours of overtime, because he's swamped at work. I mean, the paychecks are AWESOMESAUCE, but I miss his face. So I'll be spending Saturday and Sunday doing girl-stuff, I guess... Which will probably entail trying to pick up some wedding crap, and complete some wedding projects. I'm sure Skip is super sorry he has to miss THAT fun. Hah.
Booked mah flight for Julie's wedding in November! YAY! And I saved money on it... But that means I'll have to fly out at 7am the very next morning. Poop. Someone will have to be on bridesmaid patrol... I'm not allowed to party too hardy that night. I can sleep on the plane, though, so that's a plus. Let's hope I get cuddly seat-mates. Hee!

Oh, and someone needs to kick me in the butt and make me go run/walk tonight... Because I'm feeling all bloatational and cranky, and I really need to go run. I can NOT spend this week eating chocolate and being betchy. Not allowed. Must go do cardio.

4:24!

Time to go count moneys and go home.

--Malaya

Running is hard.

DUH.

I knew this. I've always known this. So WHY WHY WHY do I think that I should be able to hop on the trail and run like it's the only thing my chubby legs have ever wanted to do?!

Probably because I'm stupid.

I logged about 2 miles of walking/sprinting today... Mostly walking, with a little sprinting. I must admit that my new, fitted-to-me running shoes are pretty much awesome. Like, glitter and unicorn farts awesome. I don't get crippling cramps, my feet don't hurt, and so far... No knee pain! WHAT?! YES! No knee pain. That's a first.

However... I think my body is engineered wrong for running. Seriously, I do. I find myself thinking about what my feet and ankles are doing... And man, they do some weird shit when I run. My feet don't land right... I don't feel like my stride is normal at all. My feet strike the ground at a weird spot... Not really my heel, but not the arch either. Skip makes fun of the way I run on the regular... He's like, "You run loud." Thanks, dude. Appreciate the observation.

But yea. My feet an' junk... They just don't do what they're probably supposed to do. So I spend most of the time I'm walking/running/flailing trying to figure out WTF my feet are doing. And I try to focus on planting my feet "correctly"... Which feels weird, and probably hinders any kind of progress. But nothing feels right. I'm not a runner... I'm a wanna-be.

I've also decided that Gatorade is God's gift to me, and it makes my walks/runs more bearable. Seriously. I drank the stuff on the walk where I killed my phone, and it was like, the easiest most wonderful walk ever. Yeah, like, glitter and unicorn farts. So now I don't go without my Gatorade... And so far, every walk since that one as been amazing. Maybe it's just the clever marketing, but I seriously believe it. Although, I'd probably drink dog pee if someone told me it would turn me into an athlete. IJS.

Wedding planning is chugging along like the Little Engine That's Sucking Up My Money Could. I've got a phone consultation set up with the cupcake (!!!) baker, a tentative appointment with a dress shop to press my dress for cheap once I get down there, and a list of websites where I can order all kinds of stuff I need on the cheap. Cheers to that! I have about 18 more phone calls to make, and clearly I'm making good use of my time by blogging about it.

Procrastination at it's best.

Milo is doing well, besides having "rocks in his weiner", as Skip says. They're not actually in his weiner... They're in his bladder. If they move to the weiner, that's bad news bears. Anyways, he's a happy little pup, and is totally soaking up all the love and attention and extra crap he gets to eat because he's "sick." Which basically consists of various different things I can hide his antibiotics in, because the vet thought it would be a good idea to give him horse pills. They're enormous, and Milo likes to spit them out like a jerk.

Roxy is a little jealous, but seriously when is she not? I've promised her a "mommy-daughter day" on Tuesday while he's in surgery... We're going to get her nails clipped. She is going to flip her shit. Sorry, little lady. Your nails are 18 feet long, and I don't own a muzzle and a straight jacket to keep you from biting my face off. That's why I pay the groomer $15 to do it for me.

We're also gonna go get ice cream. Mostly because I want ice cream.

Okay, I really need to cut this off right now, and get something accomplished today. The house is a mess, I have people to call, and blogging isn't gonna get shit done.

PEACE.

--Malaya

"And I raaaaaaan, I ran so far a-waaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyy..."

I've started running.

Yes, you read that correctly. I, Malaya "I Hate Running" (Lastname), has started running. Not like, running 8 miles straight or anything... But running. In little bitty spurts. Like, walk a hundred yards, run 10 feet. It's a start.

Just as I started my "weight loss journey", I've decided I need to kick things up a notch with the exercise. And it all starts with one small step. I didn't start off eating super healthy foods 3 meals a day. I didn't give up my daily gallon of Coca-Cola cold turkey. And I'm not going to just start running a freakin' marathon out of the blue.

So here we go... Baby steps. A little sprinting mixed into my daily walks... And soon, I'll start the Couck to 5K program that I downloaded on my phone 2 months ago. Someday, I want to be able to run more than 10 feet without dying of a heart attack and out-of-breathness.

I usually make excuses for why I didn't start doing this a long time ago... Things like, "I'm not ready," or "I need to wait until ______." So no more excuses. I need to start NOW, and quit putting it off.

I started yesterday, actually. And right NOW, I need to quit writing a ridiculously redundant blog post, and GTFO of my apartment, and RUN.

kthxbai.

--Malaya

Furkids are expensive.

Milo Monster has bladder stones. The vet says he needs $650 worth of surgery and medicine to make him all better. :(

Skipper and I don't just have $650 lying around... But we're going to make something work. He told me on the phone, "Just make the appointment. I'm not gonna let anything happen to Milo." I love him, really I do. I have no clue where we're going to cut $650 out of the wedding budget... Seriously, there's nowhere left to cut from. But we'll make it work. We always do. Milo is my buddy, my first dog ever... And he means the world to me.

I'm trying to be a strong momma for him... But I know I'm gonna bawl my eyes out next week when they take him in for surgery. He's my baby... I love him to pieces. I worry like a crazy person about my furkids.

So a week of antibiotics... And then a day of surgery. Then hopefully he'll be back to normal. I wuv my widdle puppydoggie. <3

--Malaya

Where were you two years ago?!

Skip texted me just now to tell me he turned down a job offer.

An old supervisor called and offered him a job as a Party Chief (translation: guy-in-charge) for a pipeline surveying company in Illinois. He would've had his own company truck, and lots of other cool perks.

They didn't even get to the part about the money.

Skip told him he wasn't interested. He told the guy that he was done traveling, and was happy where he is here in Kansas City (with his hot wife-to-be).

Skip also told me his uncle let him know that he has work for him, if things slow down here in KCMO.

Where the hell was all this job security 2 years ago?! Where were all these offers of steady work when we needed them? Skip spent 2+ years working for a few months, then getting laid off indefinitely. Now that we have a stable, settled-down life, he has job offers out the wah-zoo. What gives, universe?!

I guess I shouldn't complain... My husband-to-be is so awesome, he has his past employers calling and throwing work at him. Even past employers that didn't like him very much. Hah. I'm proud of him... He loves what he does, and he does it well. It's taken us a long time to get to where we are now, and I only see things getting better from here on out.

--Malaya

Friday Five?

I've seen other bloggers do similar posts... Five For Friday, Friday Five, Friday Fast Five... And other alliterations. I'm thinking I should do something like this, perhaps to encourage me to blog more regularly? No? Since I now have nine (!) followers, I'll let you decide what I should title this series. Also, feel free to contribute other fun Day-of-the-Week things I could post. I seriously need motivation.

FIVE THINGS FOR FRIDAY
(Or whatever)

1. My phone has been repaired! Halleluja! I'm back to my normal excessive texting/talking/emailing/facebookingatwork. Seriously, that phone is like, lifeline. I often find myself trying to remember the days before my iPhone... And it kind of frightens me. How the hell did I function without Words With Friends? How did I stay updated on peoples' lives without Facebook in my pocket? HOW DID I TEXT WITH OUT A COMPLETE TOUCH-SCREEN KEYBOARD?! Seriously. No. Idea.
2. After a seriously bad (but delicious) food binge last weekend, my weigh-in for this week only showed a 0.2 gain. HOLY CRAP. Insanity! After eating Five Guys TWICE, BBQ, IHOP, and 54th Street, and the Taco Bell that Skip fed me last night while holding a gun to my head, I am seriously amazed that the scale did not reflect a 58 pound gain. I want to credit the 2.26 miles I walked yesterday with this miracle, but I'm still mad about the phone thing. That walk is not a happy time anymore.
3. I miss cats. Like, seriously. If I could forget that I ever had dogs, and go back to cats, I would. I got to cuddle 2 ridiculously adooooorable kitty-cats at the Phone Screen Repairman's house... And I was suddenly jones-ing for a feline in our house. But Skip is totally allergic, and he'd probably kick me (and the cat) out faster than you can say hippopotamous. But cats are all cute and fluffy and quiet... I miss cats.
4. Doctors really shouldn't have bank accounts... Because they seriously don't know what they're doing with their money. If your account was -$110 as of this past Saturday, and you keep paying bills and making transactions out of it... Trying to make a deposit at 5AM today (when I'm not even F&$#!@% here), is not going to keep you from getting charged overdraft fees. You're an idiot. Brain surgeon you may be, but smart person, you are not.
5. I've just started using Moroccan Oil on my hair... And I'm not sure how I feel about it. I've been in a hair rut as of late, so I'm really trying any and every new product I can get my mitts on. I just feel like my hair is a lifeless ball of yuck. Frizzy, dry-looking, dull, coarse... It's either way poofy or way greasy. It looks like crap in a ponytail, and it looks like crap down. Clips don't stay, barettes are a joke, and bobby pins just don't stay put. I'm itching for a new cut, but told myself I wanted long locks for the wedding... So it has to stay. The Moroccan Oil keeps my hair soft and shiny and (mostly) frizz-free, but I feel like it's borderline greasy. Like, I don't think I could go 2 days without washing my hair. Ew. Please just let me shave my head and start over.

That was probably longer than it was supposed to be. And probably boring. Sorry, followers. I'll do better next week!

NAME MY THING! Fun alliterations get bonus points!

--Malaya

I'm a klutzy camera snob.

So I went to my park today for a much needed walk... I took along my old trusty-rusty Nikon point-and-shoot camera, which was a giant mistake. After using a DSLR for the last year or so, it's nearly impossible for me to enjoy using such inferior technology. *nose in the air* Judge if you must, but I just don't like it.

Nevertheless, me and my old jalopy hit the trail this morning, and took some er, interesting shots. Most of them are blurry, and there is like zero deplth to them, and the colors are all effed up... But...  Here is my morning at the park, in pictures:

This is ridiculously blurry, but why do bobby pins do this? I hate sticky-uppy bobby pin ends!

Trees! Hey, Florida, this is what a park looks like!

I love this part of the trail, because of that big ol' tree straight age

You'll have to turn your head for this one... This is the Big Tree. Blogger won't let me rotate it, and I'm too lazy to go fix it elsewhere. Deal with it.

The "home stretch" of the first lap... This is probably my second favorite part of the trail.

Fuel. I hadn't had a Gatorade in AGES, and man, did this hit the spot. I might have to make this a regular thing...

"Wiiiiiiide oooopeeeennnn spaaaaacessssss..."

Get creative with me again, people. This is my least fave part of the trail. It goes on FOR-EV-ER, and is just enough of an incline to be a pain in the ass. No likey.

Mah foot.

This bench is smack in the middle of my Least Favorite Part of This Trail. I think they put it here for a reason.

You know the drill. The big ol' tree, again. <3

There's probably some horrible pest to blame for eating these trees, but the holes they create are kind of pretty... Kind of lace-ey. I like it. Sorry, trees.

HOME STRETCH! Again. I like this curve in the path.

Squirrell Action Shot!

Lookin' good! Thumbs up!

Distance check... My pace is embarassing. But, I feel good, so I think I'll keep going...

Adjust your face again. This part of the trail cuts through the middle of the park... I only take this when I don't want to walk the full half mile. And with rain clouds in the sky, I thought this was a safe route.

Rain clouds over the volleyball court...

YEAH! 2.26 miles completed! Right after I took this picture, I texted Skip to let him know my mileage... And I wasn't paying attention... And almost tripped and killed myself... And I dropped my phone... And it landed right on its cute little face... And...

THIS HAPPENED. Ugh ugh ugh. I sat in the Jeep in shock... I seriously just MURDERED my beloved iPhone. Seriously. Murdered. THIS IS NOT OKAY. I NEED THIS PHONE TO LIVE. *panic*

Fun, right?

The good news is, the phone can be saved. I have an appointment to get the screen replaced tonight at 5pm. Gonna cost me $70 smack-er-oos, but it's a helluva lot cheaper than going to the Apple store. And, since we should be up for upgrades in September, this should get me through the next 2-3 months. I've dropped this phone a million billion times before, and never had an issue. I guess you could say I had it coming.

I <3 my iPhone. I think I'd rather cut off my right arm than have to get rid of it.

And 2.26 is the most I've done in... A long time. Seriously, I've been in a real funk with this whole weight loss journey stuff. I get tired of obsessing over everysinglething I shove in my face. I get tired of wanting to eat something, and then feeling guilty about it. And I've been uber tired lately, so dragging my ass out of bed to do anything (much less exercise) has been a challenge. I'm trying my hardest to get my motivation back, but it's a lot easier said than done.

Baby steps. One good decision at a time. I can't be perfect always.

But damnit, I like to try to be!

--Malaya

I hate salad.

I just ate a 7538 calorie salad. True story.

I thought it would redeem me from this weekend's food failures. And it started off so good... Lettuce, bell peppers, cherry tomatoes, celery, red onions, peas, carrots, chickpeas, some lean turkey... AND THEN. Blue cheese, bacon, shredded chedder, shredded pepper jack, shredded mozzarella, cottage cheese, chow mein noodles, croutons...

...At least I used the Fat Free Ranch, right?

*headdesk* GET A GRIP, WOMAN!

--Malaya

I was going to make this post all cool and full of pictures, but my computer at work is stupid, and won't let me upload photos off of my iPhone. And I've downloaded 3 different apps onto said iPhone, and none of them will let me upload pictures, either. SO NO PICTURES FOR YOU.

I seriously ate a truckload of awful food this weekend. It started Friday night, when Skip and I were both feeling cranky and angst-y, and we were both so hungry that we really didn't care what we ate. So we settled on Chinese. And then realized that the Chinese place we went to was not a buffet. Seriously?! We had no idea you could order Chinese food from a menu. *mindblown* We high-tailed it outta there, and Skip took to the open road.

4 blocks later, we were in the parking lot of Five Guys. Mmm... Grease! Burgers! We were so hungry that the airborne calories couldn't even scare us away. And neither of us cared. THAT kind of hungry is a dangerous place to be. But I ate my giant cheeseburger (with lettuce and tomato and lard sauce) and my pound of fries dripping in cardiac arrest, and I washed it down with a Coke Zero. True story. Because the regular Coke would've really pushed me over the limit.

The next morning, Skip's mom and step-dad were in town. With two grandchildren, and one miniature yorkie. They dropped said yorkie off at our now-immaculate apartment (BECAUSE I SPENT THE ENTIRE NIGHT BEFORE CLEANING AND RECOVERING FROM A FAT-HANGOVER), and we headed out to breakfast. At IHOP. For pancakes. Seriously. I can't make this stuff up, people.

I ordered 2 eggs over easy, butter drenched wheat toast, and lean ham. I did not know that plate of goodness came with a pound of greasetastic hash browns. I did know that my intention was to only eat 1/3 of those hash browns. I am positive that I covered the whole pile in ketchup and salt, and I ate them all. And I put 18 packets of sugar in my coffee. And then drowned it in creamer. And I drank it, and it was good.

We then spent a couple hours recovering from breakfast back at our apartment... Which was mostly spent trying to keep children out of my breakables. And my toilet. And my trashcan. I was assured that I didn't need to child-proof my home, but clearly *someone* was wrong about that. I now have rocks in my reed diffuser. I don't know what to do about that. So I'm gonna just pretend like I don't see it, and let the reeds keep diffusing lovely vanilla-ey goodness into my pretty bedroom.

Several stressful hours later, the family was ready for lunch. And where, oh where, do they want to go? FIVE GUYS. No, your eyes do not deceive you. Those caps don't lie. We went to Five Guys. Again. For the second time in 24 hours. Just when I thought the grease had been filtered out of my bloodstream, we were headed back for more. *facepalm*

I still ordered a Coke Zero. Don't judge.

After lunch, was more quality time spent at our apartment. Nothing really notable here.

Dinner... Dinner was barbecue. Meat. Sauce. Meat. Fat. French fries. Ketchup. Baked beans. Fat. Bread. Sugar-coma sweet tea. I threw the Coke Zero out the window, and went balls-to-the-walls with that one. I'm from the south... You can't have barbecue without sweet tea. And it's not really sweet tea unless it makes your face hurt. And this stuff was the real deal. Like, imported directly from the south. It was so sweet, you'd slap yo' momma.

Skip and I wobbled home after that meal, and continued to feel really ill. Our weekends are generally "light eating" days... We often skip breakfast, graze for lunch, and then eat a big dinner. Three big meals was just too much for us to handle. We slept like babies. Fat, bloated, gassy babies.

Thankfully, we avoided breakfast on Sunday morning. Skip and I could not possibly handle more food before noon. Lunch wasn't anything to write home about, although I'm sure it was far less healthy than I thought it was... Because it was restaurant food, and restaurant food is always 6,429 times worse than anything you could make at home. Legit.

Skip and I spent the rest of the day Sunday laying around in misery, avoiding food at all costs. We snacked in the late evening, but that was it. Even breakfast this morning was difficult to swallow... I'm seriously still not hungry. Food is the enemy.

We also spent the weekend playing with Skip's nephews (when they weren't putting rocks in my reed diffuser), and that was fun. Kids are all cute and stuff... They make funny faces when they eat, and they repeat anything you ask them to. OH, and they think bubbles are like super awesome magic. Truth. They are. Who doesn't love bubbles?

But, spending the weekend supervising small children also reminds me that I'm not ready to be a parent. Kids are fun, and then you send them home with someone else. I like my immaculate apartment, my rock-free reed diffuser, and sleep. Kids would kind of screw up all of those things for me.

Oh, did I mention that Skip shot me in the eye with a Nerf dart gun? Oh, yea, he did. It was like Russian Roulette. But not sexy and Russian. He thought it was empty, but there was one in the chamber. And that one in the chamber ended up in my eyeball. No bueno. I've already started on the divorce papers.

But I lubs hiiiiiimmmmm. <3

(And I totally want to go put Nerf guns on our wedding registry.)

*longestblogposteveraboutnothing*

--Malaya

Mayday, mayday!

Skip came home earlier than I expected him to last night... Which was cool and all, I like seeing his face. I was sprawled out on the floor with a pile of our wedding invitations, slapping stamps on the outer envelopes. I was watching some chick show on TLC, the dogs were napping... A little moment of peace, if you will.

And then, he dropped a bomb. It went a little something like this:

Skip- "Oh yea, so, Mom called me today."
Me- "Oh? How's Mom? Busy working and stuff?"
Skip- "Her and Bill are gonna be here tomorrow night. They're staying with us."
Me- *deer in headlights face*
Skip- "I think they're bringing Joseph." (Grandkid)
Me- *freak out face"
Skip- "Oh, and their 2 yorkies."
Me- *omg dogs face*
Skip- "And maybe Brendan too... I don't remember." (Other grandkid)
Me- *PANIC FACE*

I instantly dropped the pile of envelopes, grabbed a bottle of some obscure cleaning supply and got to work. Skip started laughing uncontrollably. I threw dirty socks at him. I stripped the sheets off the bed, sprayed the tub with Tilex, and started wiping down all the flat surfaces that collect dust. Fired up the washer and the dryer. Then I started cooking dinner.

At some point, in the midst of cooking said dinner, Skip's mom called him. And told him they weren't going to be staying with us. They're getting a hotel down the highway from us. *slight relief face* They are bringing the grandkids and both dogs. I'm still not clear as to whether or not we're dog-sitting for them. *slight panic face*

The apartment isn't in bad shape, per se, but it's the first time they've seen our place... So I'm feeling kind of pressured. I feel like I need to prove myself as a worthy housewife... I can't let her think her son is marrying a slob, can I? Heck no! I'm a clean-freak with a slight case of organizational OCD. I need to make sure she knows this the instant she enters our abode.

At least they're not staying with us... There's a big difference between "people staying here"-clean and "people just visiting"-clean. I don't have to scrub down every single square inch of my bathroom. I don't have to make sure every single speck of dust is eradicated. They'll only be there for a short visit, and hopefully they won't be inspecting the place with a magnifying glass. *fingers-crossed face*

In other news... My weight loss adventure is going quite well. I've lost 23 pounds since March 1st. That's pretty big, right? I'm noticing it in little places... My jeans are looser, my shirts fit better, I'm starting to get my hip bones and collar bone back... I have a long way to go until I reach my Ultimate Goal Weight, but you gotta start somewhere. I tried my wedding dress on yesterday, and it's feeling loose... So maybe I'll be a skinny lady come October.

Everything else in life is going good... Job is good, Skip is good, dogs are (cute) good, Jeep is good... Wedding planning is good... Money is... Not plentiful enough, but weddings kind of suck the money out of your bank account. I'm definitely looking forward to getting this party over with, so I can have my paycheck back.

Toodles!

--Malaya

Finding Purpose

Since I first started this blog, I have struggled to find its purpose. Is it a diary, a food blog, a photography blog? Maybe a wedding blog? A travel blog? A blog I neglect because I'm too lazy to remember to update it?

Sadly, the latter is most true.

Anyhoo... I've really been wanting to get back into the swing of blogging, so I've been trying to figure out what it is I want to do with this blog. My life is going through so many changes right now, that it's hard to find just one single purpose. I can't just blog about food or photos or my wedding. I can't just blog about my weight loss journey, or all the places we've traveled to. I can't just blog about nothing.

So, dear readers (yes, plural, as I'm hoping there are at least two of you), I ask you to bear with me, as I try to find my blogging niche. I can't promise that my entries will always be interesting, but I'm hoping that there will be more of them. It's quantity over quality, right? Right?!

This post needs a picture. Of food.

Wow, this picture is blurrier than I thought it would be... But, through the fuzz, you'll see that these are mushrooms. Happy, delicious little mushrooms, sauteing in marsala wine. Because this photo is from a series of photos I took the other night while cooking Skip his favorite meal, Chicken Marsala.

I really hate making him this dish. Really. This is is favorite dish that I make, and it's hard to make it the same way every single time. I always feel like it's never as good as the first time I made it for him. It's a lot of pressure, for a simple meal. My palms get sweaty, the veins in my forehead start to pop out... It's just stressful.

For whatever reason, I thought this most-stressful-meal-ever would be a good candidate for an attempt at food blogging. Which was a really stupid idea, because I don't use a recipe for this. I just kind of wing it. But I thought, for some stupid reason, that I would be able to blog about it. And then, I kind of forgot to take some vital pictures. So I don't even have all the steps. I'm a food blogging failure.

BUT. I'm not a funny failure, so here are the steps, as recorded by my camera.

Step One: Arrange the ingredients, so that no one can actually tell what most of them are. Take this photo with a "cool" and "artistic" angle, to highlight the green onions... That you didn't actually use, because you forgot them.

Step Two: Take a picture of the ziploc containing the chicken breasts... Because you're funny, and labeled them "chicken boobs." Heh heh. Boobs.

Step Three: Take a cool overhead shot of the chopped green onions. Yes, yes, the same ones you forgot to use in this recipe. People will think it's artsy.

Step Four: Start seasoning the chicken. Then, halfway through, remember that you should be taking pictures. Wash one hand, and pick up the camera. Then, snap this photo of your other hand fondling the chicken boobs.

Step Five: Illustrate that you should not leave chicken unattended on the counter. Put it in the fridge, and then take a picture of it in the fridge to show the world that you're thinking about food safety, and you have a lot of crap in your fridge.

Step Six: See the container of sliced strawberries on top of the giant tub of butter, and decide it's time for a healthy snack. Cover the sliced strawberries with Hershey's syrup. Consume them in no more than three bites, using only your hands. Spoons are for losers.

Step Seven: Take a blurry/artistic picture of the canned green beans simmering on the stove. Put that candle in the background, because it looks cool.

Step Eight: Take a photo of the boiling potatoes from an interesting angle... And then realize that boiling potatoes are not, in fact, interesting... From any angle.

Step Nine: Take an overhead shot of the mushrooms cooking... Screw the chicken you just cooked in this same pan. Nobody needs to know that you actually cook the chicken in this recipe. The mushrooms are the star. And nobody needs to know that you put the wine in the pan too... You can't give away ALL your cooking secrets!

Step Ten: Show a semi-blurred picture of the chicken on a plate. Because this looks incredibly appetizing. Oh, and sneak in that little blue bowl of onions to the left... Because YOU FORGOT THEM, YOU MORON.

Step Eleven: Use this picture of the meal your significant other cooked the next night... Because it looks far more appetizing than the chicken marsala you made. Oh, and he used cool little sauce swooshes, and you can't do that with marsala.

THE END.