Boy is it hard to get back in the cooking saddle. I'd been enjoying not cooking for a month and then suddenly here I am, nothing to do but try to smash 3 chapters of dissertation into one, shorter, streamlined chapter, research iconography of elite art in the 2nd-3rd centuries, see if there is a class distinction between Roman cults (anyone? anyone?), find two German articles I *know* I've translated, translate some other stupid German encyclopedia entries that will only vex, write an intelligent chapter on some Roman coins, and cook. Seriously, I have OODLES of time on my hands. Look, I'm blogging!!
Whipped up a darned good curry last night, having discovered at some point in the past that one can use one's immersion blender as a food processor, even without the special "food processor" attachment. Just remember to wrap plastic wrap around the top of the bowl, 'cause that stuff flies and stings if you get it in your eyes.
And because I am SO used to making rice, I didn't need to look at the package, I just dumped 6 dl rice into 4 dl of boiling water.
Result: not quite cooked rice.
It's 4 dl of rice to 6 dl boiling water.
Oh.... darn! Darnation! Tarnation! Consternation! Antimatterization!!
Undercooked rice is chewy. And not in a good way. The curry helped. It was a little wetter than it should have been. But if the rice had been properly cooked it would have been a brilliant meal. As it was, three stars for effort.
Want to know another brilliant idea that has been less than stellar in it's realization? Changing my name. Last name. Couldn't do it when I got married because I needed a CPR number to officially change my name. And now I do. Sooooo, my passport is expiring and therefore so is my visa. I think to myself, hey, clever idea this, lets do all that paperwork NOW, seeing how you only have to leave the country again in... less than three weeks.
Yeah, I'm a flippin' genius. Husband thinks so too. Full of pride for his brilliant wife.
Anyway, you know in America, when we get married, that little piece of paper is all we need to show to change our names? (If you didn't, now you do.) Not so in Denmark. I have to fill out forms and bring 440 kr to some biddy in a church office down the road, a church mind you that I was NOT married in and do not pay taxes for and apart from one evening sneaking in to see what it looked like have never been to... Hold it, I've lost my train of thought.
Okay... blah blah blah... and take these papers there along with my money... and see if she'll let me change my name so that I can take another piece of paper and send it to the Embassy so that they can finish my passport with correct name.
And with a kick ass photo, by the way. Ought to be, I paid a fortune for it, just to make sure it was done right and I didn't have to have a discussion about it. American passport photos are different from Danish ones making life a bit more difficult when trying to find someone who can do it without making a huge issue out of it. I'm sorry, I don't make the rules. Please don't trim the photo for me. You gotta step closer, I need to be bigger that that. No, it must be in color. No, I have to face forward. No I am NOT tucking my hair behind my ears, it's a stupid thing to ask people to do, honestly, EARS? And, yes, I am going to gently smile with no teeth because this is not a mug shot, people, I have not broken any laws that you know of.
Have you seen the new American passports? Blah! Lame-o! And they feel cheap. My freedom was paid for with the blood of patriots and that guy who stood up too fast to ask his general "is it over?" I expect a little more of my official documentation. Some gravitas. And better lamination.
If you happen to be wondering why on god's green earth am I changing my name... well, I've googled myself and did you know I am also an OB/GYN, a photographer, a softball player, and married to a bald guy named Ryan? I've become an Episcopal deacon too... but that might conflict with the Ugandan mission I am on for the Mormon's. Makes sense I am a Mormon, seeing how my other husband Ed is with me in Africa. Wonder where I left Ryan?
When I google my soon to be new name... I discover I'm already mentioned in my own grandfather's obituary. Odd. Way to go Mom and Dad!
But other than that, there isn't anyone by that name. I'll be unique!!
There were other considerations, my heritage, my utter lack of publications, my evolving views of feminism, blah blah blah. But being the only person on the world wide web with my name was pretty much the kicker.
Tonight, when you are NOT BURNING YOUR RICE because you have now LEARNED FROM MY ERRORS, google yourself and see who else you are.
It's WAAAAY too much fun.