I’m sure everyone’s already figured this out, but I’m rereading The Toll (Arc of a Scythe) and I just realized that the story with the believer, the magician and the mauler is about Sister Astrid, Curate Mendoza and Scythe Morrison. I mean, think about it; Astrid believes that Greyson is the Tone made flesh, even though he doesn’t believe it himself; Mendoza is the showman who makes all of the Toll’s appearances special; and Morrison protects Greyson, hurting those who try to hurt him.
So I was sick. I still am, actually. My liver took a nasty beating--complications, and all. Unfortunately and, oh, the irony, I've no drugs to make everything better. Don't get me started about my extremely low pain threshold and my subsequent "drug dependency." I pop a pill for everything. But that's not exactly allowed at the moment, is it? Along with any sort of drugs, I am to abstain from alcohol, pork, red meat, dairy, and anything fried and raw until the good doctor gives me a clean bill of health. I also have to eat three eggs (no yolk!) a day. It really hasn't been that long my normal appetite has returned with a vengeance and I've been pretty miserable. And hungry. That's basically all my favorites in that list.
Toni and I couldn't agree on the recipe. He says fished-based Sinigangs shouldn't have all those things I wanted to put. He's probably right but what harm could vegetables do? So we made Salmon Sinigang with everything in it. Even that foul-smelling labanos, which wasn't so bad after all.
I don't know how or why but as we ate the soup and the self-congratulatory nonsense I was spewing out, I told him I could cook for him every night for a month, a prelude of sorts to our married life. I think he's really scared that marrying me is tantamount to a life of eating out and take outs.
It's not. I CAN cook. And have a career. And raise baby/ies. I can do it all! Just not right now, please. I cannot, however, back out on the cooking for him for a month thing I said I'd do. I'm going to blog about it, of course. I don't cook much so when I do, I can't help it I'm super proud and I have this need to tell the world (wide web).
But that would have to wait until I'm done with this sick person diet. Because as much he loves me and commiserates with my pain, he's not gonna eat the crap I've been forced to eat if he can help it.
That awkward moment when a girl is clearly flirting with your boyfriend
I don’t blame you. He’s smart, fun and funny and all sorts of awesome. He is also unquestionably decent, which is very rare among his species. However, he is already spoken for. A little respect, please. If not for me (THE GIRLFRIEND) then for yourself.
