Please keep Sherry Arnold in your thoughts and prayers. To my knowledge she still hasn't been found. It's just not right that you go out for your morning run and don't make it back. Very not cool.
I made lasagna for the very first time. Wait, let's rephrase that. I'm trying to make lasagna for the very first time. It's in the oven right now. I have this super cute dish thingy that I got for Christmas (thanks Mom) and it looks perfect for lasagna. Perfect. I got all the ingredients needed and then I realized that lasagna is an engineering nightmare. Really?? It's 2012. Why hasn't anyone figured out that the noodles don't fit into a 9x13 pan with any type of semblance??? Do you go length ways? Then there's space left over.
If you go the other way, then the noodles are too long.
I also learned that you can't cut lasagna noodles. They shatter. A person could lose an eye with one of those. Totally dangerous. I'd probably have to wear a patch. Once again, not cool. This is a totally great opportunity for someone to swoop in and make a noodle that will fit the freaking pan correctly!!! (ok-I'm a little obsessive. Maybe...)
|Dangerous Noodle Weapon|
If it doesn't turn out, there's a pizza ready and waiting. I only burn those on occasion. (Like Christmas-sorry people!)
|Engineered Lasagna In the Oven|
What? You can't handle it? Too bad people-there's more!! I found out today that with this half marathon training, I've gained sixteen pounds. You read that right. Gained. Sixteen. Pounds. The nurse and I had to weigh myself twice at the doctors office today, just to make sure. And because it wasn't uncomfortable enough the first time. Funny, my jeans are actually a size smaller than they used to be, but sometimes my pants get hung up on my HUGE, Ginormous (That's for you, SUAR), muscle ridden quads. Apparently, I'm strong like an ox. I'd better let the county know that they may need to do some road repair after I'm done running on them. Boom. Da da Boom. Here comes the Ox Girl....
And finally, I've been diagnosed with a strained Gastrocnemius muscle. Sounds terrible doesn't it? Almost like the consequence of a promiscuous sexual behavior. Did you hear? She's got a strained gastrocnemius. Stay away. You don't want to catch that. Hopefully, it's not that big of a deal and will "unstrain" quickly. I guess it's part of the hugely muscled drumsticks I'm sporting these days.......
Ok-enough. I need to go check the lasagna. OR burn the pizza, either way...